Who Wants to See Me Take off Snivelly's Pants
by Frosty858
Summary: Did James really take off Snape's pants at the end of Snape's Worst Memory? What would have happened if Lily had given him another chance after the "Mudblood" comment? Would Snape have treated Harry differently? Read to find out!
1. The Pantsing of Severus Snape

**Harry never found out whether or not James took off Snape's pants. Let's slake his (and everyone else's) curiosity**

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

The crowd roared with laughter as Snape twisted about in midair, kicking and thrashing, desperately trying to get free. Flying flecks of dandruff, grease, and lice formed a small cyclone around Snape's head, as his filthy hair flopped about.

"Come on James, give the greasy bastard what he deserves!" hollered Gideon Prewitt, his fellow member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"I'll bet five Galleons that Snivellus has a Dark Mark tattooed on his butt cheeks!" jeered Frank Longbottom.

"Are those diarrhea stains on Snivelly's knickers?" This inquiry elicited a chorus of giggles and whispers, and at least two dozen pointing fingers. With his face reddening and tears welling in his eyes, Snape threw both hands over the questionable brown smudges on seat of his boxers. But James flicked his wand, and Snape's hands were instantly immobilized as his sides.

Sirius cackled maliciously. "Don't worry, Snivelly. You'll be shitting your pants plenty, once we're through with you."

"Last chance, Evans!" James called to Lily's retreating form. "You don't want to miss this!"

"Forget about her, Prongs," Sirius clapped James on the shoulder. "Just get on with the show."

The audience was getting restless at the delay. A thunderous chant of "Take them off! Take them off! Take them off! Take them off!" exploded from the crowd, reverberating off the castle walls, rippling across the lake, and echoing through the voluminous canopies of the forest. High overhead, a flock of birds squawked obliviously as they passed.

Remus Lupin shifted uncomfortably. "Prongs, don't you think you've taken this too far?" he muttered. "I mean, I hate Severus as much as the next guy, but what you're about to do to him… I wouldn't wish it on Lord Voldemort."

Sirius brushed him off. "Don't be soft, Moony. Who cares about greasy old Snivellus?"

James cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for. Three, two, one, _Diffindo_!"

Snape's graying, moldy underwear split open. His buttocks and genitals lay in plain sight before the entire student body. Sirius lifted his wand and slowly rotated Snape around in a circle, making sure that everyone got a good look. With his final vestige of dignity wasted away, Snape's lower lip quivered, his nose reddened, and a single tear slid down the side of his sallow face. But he clenched his teeth until his gums ached. There was no way he would let James Potter hear him cry.

Sirius pointed. "Take a look at Snivelly's junk. Two inches!"

"That's two inches longer than what I'd have expected," retorted James.

Laughter exploded from the crowd in a cacophonous boom, like an array of unsynchronized Fillibuster Fireworks. Students rolled on the ground, shrieking with mirth, snorting as they choked on slippery strands of tears and mucus. Peter Pettigrew was on all fours, kicking and pounding the grass with his pudgy fists, on the verge of wetting his pants. James beamed with delight, reveling in the attention he was receiving. Remus Lupin had his nose buried in a book once again.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Lily Evans was back, her eyes blazing with rage and indignation. "James Potter, you are disgusting!"

"Not as disgusting as this." James dangled Snape's underwear in her livid face. The onlookers exploded in a fresh wave of laughter.

James tossed Snape's underwear to Sirius. "If I don't catch the Snitch against Hufflepuff in the first ten minutes of tomorrow's match, I'll wear Snivelly's knickers on my head for the rest of the day."

"It isn't funny!" Lily seethed. "You deserve to be expelled for this!"

Sirius tossed the lump of moldy gray cloth to Lily. "Evans, if you care so much about your precious Sniv-Sniv, why don't you sleep with this under your pillow, and quit being such a buzzkill?"

"Buzzkill?" Lily demanded incredulously. "Do you know what _I_ think is funny, James Potter? You're always going on about your stupid fantasies of fighting You-Know-Who. You preach against the Dark Arts until you're blue in the face, like a self-righteous sanctimonious prick. But bullies like you are what drive people into the Dark Arts in the first place! You bully and _torture_ people until they have nowhere else to turn! I hope you lose every Quidditch match you ever play!"

"She got you there, Prongs," Lupin whispered out the corner of his mouth. "You can't argue with that."

But James would not be so easily deterred. "The day I lose a Quidditch match is the day Snivelly washes his hair. Hell will freeze over when someone catches the Snitch before I do."

Lily paused for a few seconds as she searched her arsenal for an appropriate retort. "Well, if you bully Severus one more time, you'll never play Quidditch again."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" Sirius dared.

A triumphant gleam flickered in Lily's eyes, as she pointed across the grounds, where a tiny figure in emerald green robes was barely discernible, stepping out of the castle. "McGonagall was watching from her office. She saw _everything_ , and is coming to get you right now. You can kiss goodbye to your place on the team, Potter."

"What?" James yelped, his face going white with shock. He shook his head frantically. "You ratted us out! You must have! Evans, how could you?"

Sirius gave his distressed friend a pat on the back. "Don't worry, Prongs. She's bluffing. McGonagall hates that greasy slimeball too. Didn't she high-five you when you set Snivelly's hair on fire?"

"Shut up, Padfoot." James snapped miserably.

Sirius shrugged. "Well, if you've been kicked off the team, you've got nothing to lose now." He jerked his head towards Snape, who was still struggling in vain to free himself. "She won't be here for another five minutes. Why not make the most out of those precious five minutes?"

"Right," James bent down to grab a thin, knobby tree branch that had fallen into the grass. Regaining his swagger, he turned to face the crowd once more. "Who wants to see Snivelly get spanked?" A clamor of approval rang out.

James gripped the branch tightly in his fist, and with lightning speed and agility borne of his skills as Seeker, lashed it viciously across Snape's bare buttocks. "Take that, Snivelly! And that!"

Snape's jaw was clenched and his eyes screwed shut in a stony, recalcitrant façade. He was not going betray any sign of weakness in front of his tormentors. But by ten strokes he was starting to tear up, and by fifteen he could no longer hold back his screams of agony. Loud, angry curses erupted from his throat and echoed violently across the grounds.

"Yeah Prongs! Beat his ass!" Sirius and Peter roared with laughter as Snape screamed in pain and let loose a lengthy string of profane threats. But James continued plowing away inexorably. Layers of skin split open and peeled back, revealing the raw, tender flesh below. Dozens of red and burgundy welts crisscrossed his butt cheeks. Sirius chuckled, "You're about beat the shit out of Snivelly, and I mean that quite literally."

"POTTER! BLACK!"

"Oh damn, McGonagall is coming." James delivered one final blow before hastily ducking behind a tree and disappearing beneath his invisibility cloak. Snape was left dangling in the air upside-down, half naked, with blood and pus oozing from his lacerated buttocks like a quivering mass of red Jell-O.


	2. Crime and Punishment

James and Sirius took their seats without a word. Moments later, Professor McGonagall swept into the office and slammed the door in her wake. She turned to glare menacingly at the troublemaking duo. "You better have a good explanation for this."

"Sniv— _Severus_ was asking for it." Sirius insisted stubbornly. Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall was not convinced.

"Do you boys have any idea how disappointed I am in you? You disgrace yourselves and the noble legacy of Godric Gryffindor with this repulsive behavior." She paused to let these words sink in. But when James and Sirius remained unperturbed, she continued.

"Severus is in the hospital wing right now, under a heavy Sleeping Draught. Madam Pomfrey says he has spoken of killing himself. What on earth could he have done to deserve what you so viciously—

"It's a House Rivalry thing!" Sirius blurted. "Haven't we been at war with Slytherin for nearly a thousand years?"

"Yeah!" James emphatically agreed. "Professor, can you honestly say that Sniv— _Severus_ isn't at least partially responsible for his own lack of popularity? I mean... he hides in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, playing with his potions kit in his spare time. He's obsessed with the Dark Arts. He hasn't washed his hair in three months. These traits don't exactly endear him to anyone. Can you honestly expect us to—

"Enough!" Professor McGonagall slapped her hands on the desktop, silencing James and Sirius' attempts to justify themselves. "One hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor, and you will both serve a month of detentions. Has it crossed your mind that Severus might not be so interested in these, um, _aberrant forms of magic_ , if he wasn't constantly in fear for his own safety? And what have you done to assuage those fears?"

"Yes, but—"

"And has it never occurred to you that Severus might be a little more attentive towards his appearance and personal hygiene, had you not made him an outcast from Day One?"

" _Three months_ , Professor!"

"I don't care if Severus hasn't washed his hair in three years!" Professor McGonagall shouted. She quickly composed herself and spoke in a softer tone. "James Potter, you seem to think that you are incapable of doing wrong, simply because you are good at Quidditch."

James froze as the conversation steered to a topic that he was desperately hoping to avoid. Quidditch was sacred! How could anyone challenge him or cast doubt on his character when it came to Quidditch? Besides, every student in the school hated greasy old Snivelly! Including Lily Evans, albeit she was too saintly to admit it.

"And speaking of Quidditch," Professor McGonagall drew a deep breath, and gazed longing at the gleaming Quidditch Cup that had been her pride and glory for the past four years. But her resolve was unwavering. "I'm afraid I have to remove you from the Gryffindor Quidditch Team—"

"WHAT?" James shrieked, involuntarily leaping to his feet.

"—For the remainder of your time at Hogwarts."

For the first time in many years, James had lost every ounce of his characteristic swagger. Gone was the cocky, loudmouthed, attention-seeking Quidditch phenom. Gone was the indefatigable confidence that his wit, humor, and talent would suffice to maneuver him out of any sticky situation. Gone was the assurance that no matter how many points Gryffindor lost due to his antics, his popularity was unassailable. A wave of genuine despair inundated James Potter, and it threatened to drown him. Professor McGonagall hadn't simply cut at the branches of his ego. She had hacked away its root.

"Professor, you can't!" James pleaded in a whiny, desperate voice that was not his own.

"I can, and I must," she responded tartly.

"But our match against Hufflepuff is tomorrow! For the Quidditch Cup! You can't ban me on such a short notice… there won't be enough time to find a replacement Seeker! We'll be destroyed if I don't play!"

Professor McGonagall shook her head firmly. "You should have thought of that before you decided to bully your classmate."

"Don't you care about Gryffindor winning?" James continued to protest.

"I do. But I care more about the man you grow up to be. Your Quidditch fame has clearly given you the illusion that you are above the rules of common decency. This needs to stop. When the team suits up to play Hufflepuff tomorrow, you will not be joining them.

 _This is ridiculous!_ James silently fumed, his cheeks flushing with indignation. A hot, prickling sensation was beginning to seep into the corners of his eyes. Beneath the table, he clenched his fists so tightly, the skin on his knuckles was on the verge of splitting. _How can she kick me off the Quidditch team—the day before the biggest game of the year? Just to defend Snivelly's honor? To hell with Snivelly!_

Professor McGonagall seemed to have read his mind. "Potter, if you attempt to deflect responsibility or blame Severus for your predicament one more time… I'm heading to Gryffindor Tower right this minute, and throwing your broomstick into the fireplace."

* * *

James and Sirius stomped out of the office and down the corridor. As soon as they made sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot, James let loose an angry string of profanity. "She can't stop me from playing tomorrow! I'm playing whether she likes it or not."

Sirius plucked a hair off his head. "Polyjuice Potion. You go as me tomorrow. McGonagall never said that Sirius Black was banned from playing Quidditch."

"It's too late!" James snapped. "It takes a month to brew Polyjuice Potion, and the match is tomorrow!" James rumpled his hair and rolled his eyes. "If McGonagall likes Snivelly so much, why doesn't she just adopt him?"

"Yeah, why not?" Sirius gave a bitter chuckle. "I'm sure Snivelly's parents would be thrilled to get rid of him."

As James and Sirius passed through the corridors, they were heartily greeted by hordes of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs heartily congratulating them on their latest Anti-Snape escapade.

James' stomach throbbed excruciatingly and his heart wrenched as he climbed through the portrait hole. The common room was covered from floor to ceiling with gold and scarlet banners celebrating Gryffindor's inevitable victory. Mountains of sweets and butterbeer bottles covered every table in sight. A twenty-foot tall poster of James grinning smugly, with the Quidditch Cup in his hand and the entire Hufflepuff team kneeling down to kiss his shoes, decorated one wall. The heading ALL HAIL KING JAMES flashed in pretentious glittering letters.

Another poster depicted the Gryffindor Lion with the Hufflepuff Badger clamped in its jaws. Yet a third poster showed a triumphant-looking James standing atop a mountain, brandishing the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, with a decapitated Snape lying at his feet. Throngs of chattering students were dispersed throughout the common room, engaged in spirited discussions about tomorrow's match. The only debate seemed to be whether James would catch the Snitch in five minutes, or whether he'd wait ten minutes as a show of mercy.

 _If only they knew,_ James thought savagely as he brushed off the excited but benignly oblivious revelers. As he and Sirius made their way up the stairs, they exchanged a knowing look. Though not a single word was uttered, such was their mental synchronization, each knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Snivelly was going to pay.


	3. Friendship and Loyalty

**Guest:** **I think I will do that: portray Snape in a more sympathetic light, and have Lily at least consider giving him another chance.  
**

 **Some Reviewer:** **Thank you for your enthusiastic support! At first, I was thinking about keeping this as a one-shot only, but I've decided to make this a full-length story**

 **Question to all readers: Do you think McGonagall was too harsh? 100 points from Gryffindor and a month of detentions for both James and Sirius, and kicking James off the Quidditch Team.**

 **Warning: This chapter (and the next few) will be VERY sad for Snape. Remember that in canon, James and Sirius pulled a prank that nearly got Snape killed. In this story, they will be no less cruel.**

"I'll kill them!" Snape's shoulders trembled as he sobbed convulsively. Tears leaked out from his tightly closed eyes. He wanted to die from pain and humiliation, as Madam Pomfrey and several teachers hovered over his naked buttocks, carefully tending to the wounds wrought by the brutal beating that James administered. "I'll get Potter and Black expelled if it's the last thing I ever do!"

Snape let out a shrill scream of agony and leapt into the air, as her forceps brushed against a particularly sensitive spot. Madam Pomfrey winced sympathetically as she gingerly withdrew her hands and tools. The wooden branch had gouged deep into the subcutaneous tissue, and unleashed a cataclysmic outpouring of blood from arteries beneath the muscle tissue. Dozens of long, frayed tendrils of mangled flesh hung flaccidly from his body like earthworms. In some areas where the lacerations were especially deep, his wounds were turning a sickly shade of brownish-green, and a foul-smelling pus was oozing out.

"Severus, please hold still. I need to remove the rest of the splinters, and the harder you struggle, the deeper they'll sink into your flesh."

"Why can't we remove them magically?" Snape whined.

Professor Sprout spoke up, with tears in her eyes. "Because James Potter didn't use an ordinary tree branch, Severus. Take a closer look." Through a layer of moist towels, she held out the weapon for him to see. "Do you recognize this is?"

Snape chewed his nails as the curved green spikes and gnarled stem registered in his memory. "Venomous Tentacula?" he ventured nervously.

Professor McGonagall nodded grimly. "The Gryffindors were taking their Herbology O.W.L. less than two hours before this unfortunate episode. They were working with Venomous Tentacula. A few loose branches must have unknowingly latched onto their clothes or backpacks, and fallen into the grass when they sat down. Potter still had traces of the antidote on his hands. That is why he was able to hold the branch safely. But you on the other hand, Severus…"

"What?" Snape demanded. "What's going to happen to me?"

"We've managed to remove most of the splinters in time," Madam Pomfrey quickly assured him. But then she dabbed at her eyes. "But I'm very sorry to say that in order to stop the venom from proliferating further… a degree of amputation will be necessary."

"WHAT?" Snape shrieked. "I'm getting amputated because of Potter and Black?"

Professor Sprout spoke in hushed tones as Snape continued to rant and rave. "Venomous Tentacula is especially dangerous when in contact with open wounds. When we also take into account the boy's abysmal hygiene, the effects are exponentially worse. Minerva, if you hadn't brought him here in time, if we had waited just five minutes later, the venom would have killed him."

"But the situation is still dire. We will have to permanently amputate a chunk of the left buttock, roughly the size of an apple. Poor Severus will have trouble walking and sitting for a very long time, but it's the only way."

"I'll kill them!" Snape screamed so loudly, he nearly shredded his vocal cords. Pure, unmitigated rage flashed in his eyes, "I'll get my friends to teach me the Cruciatus Curse, and Potter and Black will curse the day they were born! Then I'll use it on their entire family, and then I'll get a bunch of my friends to—"

"Severus," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. Snape calmed down but continued to glare reproachfully at her through bloodshot, watery eyes.

"Young man, I'm concerned about the people you call your friends."

"What about them?" Snape spat angrily.

"I think you know exactly what we're talking about," Madam Pomfrey responded crisply. "Mulciber? Rosier? Avery? Wilkes? Bellatrix Black? Lucius Malfoy? These people are hell-bent on becoming Death Eaters. They have chosen their path. In ten years, every single one of them will be dead or in Azkaban. I guarantee it."

"My friends are no worse than James Potter and Sirius Black, but I don't hear anyone complaining about those two!" Snape screeched. Overcome with rage and indignation, he lashed his hand across a table, and sent a tray of medical tools clattering to the floor.

"Severus, calm down!"

"I'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS!" Snape screamed, kicking over a lampstand and smashing a water jug onto the floor. "James Potter gets away with murder because he's good at Quidditch, but _I'm_ the bad guy for finding my own group of friends to defend against—"

Madam Pomfrey cut in sharply. "You call these people your friends, Severus, but let me ask you something. Which one of them stood up for you today?"

"None of them," Snape grouched.

"Exactly. Come to think of it, in all your time at Hogwarts, when have they _ever_ confronted James Potter over the way he acts towards you?"

"Never," Snape grumbled.

Madam Pomfrey nodded in understanding. "Now, which one of these so-called friends alerted the teachers of your predicament today, and made sure you received medical treatment before it was too late?"

"Nobody." Snape scowled at her persistent questioning. "What's your point?"

"The point is," Professor Sprout chimed in, "You answered _no_ to each question. In other words, none of these people bothered to do anything when you really needed a friend. But there is someone who has always been there for you. Always. Can you guess who that might be?"

"Lily Evans," Snape mumbled.

As soon as he uttered her name, tears began to well in his eyes. "Oh no, I ruined everything! Lily will never want to speak to me again after what I did. She was always there for me when no one else was, but I've driven her away." Bitter tears of remorse and self-loathing streamed down his sallow cheeks. Safe in the Hospital Wing away from James and Sirius, the fear and humiliation had ebbed down, giving way to rationality. The truth was now painfully obvious. Severus Snape had been a damn fool. In a pitiful attempt at appearing tough in front of Potter and Black, he had thrown away the only friend he ever had. The only person who ever loved him in spite of his shabby appearance and terrible hygiene.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a comforting pat on the back. "Nonsense. How could Lily possibly blame you for what happened today?"

"You don't understand!" Snape wailed. "I said something… something terrible to her. It just slipped out!"

"In that case, perhaps an apology is in order."

"It's too late!" Snape sobbed. "I could apologize a million times, but it won't do any good!"

Professor McGonagall sat down next to him. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Severus, but hasn't Lily been bothered for years by the company you keep? The same group of students we discussed earlier?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Snape sniffed.

"Everything," Professor McGonagall asserted. "It's time you choose where your loyalties lie. You can call Lily your friend until you're blue in the face, but it won't matter as long as you're hanging out with these wannabe Death Eaters. Very soon, the War against Dark Magic will belong to your generation. Lily needs to see that you'll be fighting with her, and not against her, when that time comes. Only then will she accept your apology."

With fumbling fingers, Snape reached into his robe and ripped the Dark Mark pendant from around his neck, and hurled it into the fireplace. "I've been a damn fool! I have to go see Lily! Tell her how sorry I am… beg for forgiveness! I hope it's not too late!" He made a furious move to clamber out of bed, but a blinding jolt of agony in his left buttock sent him collapsing back onto the mattress.

Madam Pomfrey held up her wand. "You're not going anywhere, Severus. We'll summon Ms. Evans to the Hospital Wing. Now lie on your stomach. It's time for your surgery."

Snape swore at the top of his lungs and bellowed out a lengthy tirade of gruesome threats against James and Sirius, before finally and mercifully blacking out from the pain.

 **Lily will be visiting Snape in our next chapter. Can they salvage their friendship, or will it be too late?**


	4. Flashbacks 1

**Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! Without further ado, Chapter 4:**

 _A few hours later…_

"Come in, Ms. Evans. Severus really wants to see you."

The redhead raised both eyebrows in confusion. "Severus wants to see me? After all that happened earlier?"

Madam Pomfrey smiled cryptically. "Let's just say that our dear Mr. Snape has come to his senses after a nice discussion about who his true friends are at Hogwarts."

Lily shrugged, her face a mask of nonchalance blended with indifference. "Well, I hope he really means it this time."

"Right this way." Madam Pomfrey led her to the back of the hospital ward, where a single bed was shrouded by white curtains. With trembling but determined hands, she pulled back the drapes. Lily nearly fell to her knees at the horrific sight.

Her dear friend lay in a twisted heap, amidst a convoluted mess of bloody sheets. His emaciated body was curled up in fetal position and both fists were clenched tightly to his chest—as if to protect himself from the bullies and tormentors who were never too far away. From a community that was mercilessly and incorrigibly cruel to anyone who wasn't lucky enough to descend from a respected bloodline. From a world with a seemingly insatiable lust for Severus Snape's blood and tears. Both eyelids were red and swollen. Salty rivulets traversing his cheeks further indicated that he had been crying. Although Severus had always been at least twenty pounds underweight, his wretched condition made him look even more small and pitiful than usual.

Instantly, Lily's resentment towards Snape's recent behavior, along with her skepticism towards his purported reformation, faded clean away.

"Severus," she gasped. "What happened?"

Madam Pomfrey grimaced sympathetically. "His condition is stable now, although he is still very weak. We have been administering a Blood-Replenishing Potion every thirty minutes after his surgery. The poor thing… he took such a savage beating."

Lily's face reddened in anger. "I hate that James Potter!" she burst out viciously. "He should be grateful that he wasn't expelled or prosecuted! But I heard him begging Professor McGonagall to let him back on the Quidditch team. Not one word of remorse for what he had done, not one bit of concern for Severus. All he cared about was getting to play Quidditch tomorrow and having his gigantic ego inflated even more—if that were even possible. It was absolutely _disgusting_! If it were up to me, he would have been—"

"Lily?"

A feeble voice interrupted her righteous indignation. The bedsheets stirred very slightly, before a cold, trembling hand reached out to clasp hers.

"Sev! You're awake!"

"I'm sorry," Snape croaked, fresh tears welling in his eyes. He then plunged into a frantic monologue of apologies. "Lily, I'm so sorry. I've never felt so sick to my stomach for what I said to you. Apologizing to you is not even enough. I spat in the face of the best—and only—friend I've ever had, all because of those awful boys whose opinions shouldn't even matter. I was so wrong to throw you under the bus like that. Please, _please_ give me another chance! I renounce all the Dark Arts. I've even burned my Dark Mark necklace. I will never hang out with Mulciber or Avery or Rosier ever again—no matter how much they threaten me! Oh Lily, won't you give me another chance?"

Lily gazed into his watery black eyes. She vacillated briefly between the options of further berating him, or welcoming him back into grace. But her better nature prevailed. Severus was clearly broken-hearted over the poor choices he had made. A pat on the back would do much more good, than a slap in the face.

"Of course I will give you another chance. But Sev, I expect you to follow through on what you just promised. No more fraternizing with those wannabe Death Eaters."

"It's a deal!" In spite of his terribly weakened condition, Snape bolted upright and flung his arms around Lily. Never again would he test her limits. Never again would he be so naive and presumptuous to assume that she would always be there, that she would blindly and unconditionally support him, no matter how he acted. Severus had come so close to losing Lily's friendship, he resolved never again to take it for granted.

"We're going to need a plan," Lily declared. "You can't simply walk up to Mulciber or Avery and tell them that you've changed your mind. They will make your life absolute hell. Ask Dumbledore for alternate living arrangements. Anywhere, as long as they can't come after you for revenge."

Snape nodded propitiatingly. "I'm also going to have my schedule rearranged, so that all my classes are with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I'm going to miss you Lily, but I've got to get away from Potter and Black as well. We can always see each other between classes or in Hogsmeade."

Madam Pomfrey bustled over and gently stepped in front of Lily. "I hate to interrupt this wonderful conversation, but it's time for Severus to take his Blood Replenishing Potion and get some much-needed rest."

"Of course. Bye Sev! I'll see you tomorrow!" Lily planted a quick kiss on the forehead, before turning around to exit the Hospital Wing. Snape's cheeks were tinged pink.

* * *

 _The next day…_

Snape sat around a cauldron in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, his somber face glowing in the shimmering silver mist that was emanating from the bubbling liquid. With great pain and difficulty, he adjusted his sitting position into a more comfortable one. True to her word, Madam Pomfrey had amputated a chunk of his left buttock the size of an apple, to prevent the Venomous Tentacula from spreading. Although it was a necessary procedure to save his life, it had come at a great cost. Snape could not sit for two minutes without excruciating agony, unless a constant Cushioning Charm was applied. He was also walking at a painfully slow and lopsided pace.

The greasy-haired teenager furrowed his brow in concentration, as he continued adding ingredients to his self-made recipe. Combining the Draught of Peace and the Forgetfulness Potion, he would soon be free. Snape smiled in satisfaction as a puff of wispy blue smoke wafted from the cauldron, inundating his senses with a light floral fragrance. It was working. This wonderful potion would be key to healing the wounds of the past.

Soon he would be free from all the wretched memories of the past five years. Soon every recollection of James and Sirius' bullying—and Dumbledore's complete apathy to his repeated cries for help—would vanish into nothingness. Of the so-called Marauders he would have no memory. Only of Lily and the beautiful friendship they shared.

The entire school was watching the Quidditch Final between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, giving Snape plenty of privacy as he continued to brew. Slowly and deliberately, he stirred the cauldron and prepared to add the final ingredient.

With a steady stream of tears pouring down his crumpled face, Snape lifted his wand to his temple to withdraw strands of silver material. Every wound and scar that the Marauders had ever inflicted. One by one, he invoked each memory that he wished to erase, and banished it into the swirling depths of the potion.

 ***** First year *****

Snape and Lily sat happily together on the Hogwarts express, munching on a variety of sweets from the Trolley. The boy's heart filled with warmth. For the first time in his life, he was not alone. For the first time ever, he had something to share, and someone to share them with.

Until the compartment door slid open, and two smirking boys forced their way in.

"Well, well, well…" James drawled. "That's a nice collection of candy you've got there."

"Surely you wouldn't mind if we helped ourselves to a few," sneered Sirius. Feeling a brotherly protectiveness spring to life, Snape stepped in front of Lily.

"Leave us alone!" he shouted with much more bravery than he felt. James and Sirius were both six inches taller than he was.

"Oh yeah?" James lunged forward and swiped a Chocolate Frog. He bit off the head and threw the rest of it back, spattering Snape's robes in mushed chocolate. Sirius howled with laughter.

"Stop it! That's ours!" Snape desperately tried to stand his ground as the two bullies continued to advance. James seized a huge pile of candy and began stuffing it into his robes.

"I've had it with your whining, you greasy little git!" Sirius grabbed Snape by the collar, and dragged him out into the walkway. Lily scrambled to help, but James quickly slammed the door, trapping her in the compartment, powerless to assist her hapless friend.

Snape was unceremoniously thrown the floor. Before he could cry for help, James and Sirius began to bludgeon him with a massive flurry of kicks and punches. A right hook shattered his nose, and a haymaker blacked his eye. A kick to the stomach made Snape vomit out all the delicious sweets he had just eaten. Another kick cracked several ribs and sent violent shockwaves through his breastbone. Fist-sized bruises and hematomas blossomed across his torso with every punch thrown. Dark circles clouded his vision, as he drifted in and out of a hazy oblivion.

The next thing Snape remembered was sitting in the Headmaster's Office, desperately pleading his case.

"Severus, you must stop with all these lies and exaggerations," Professor Dumbledore spoke wearily.

"But it's true, sir! James Potter and Sirius Black nearly killed me, just because I wouldn't let them steal my candy."

"Pushing and shoving is a very normal way for boys to let out their aggression and express themselves. Fights are something that every boy must go through on his journey to become a man."

"It wasn't a fight!" The diminutive eleven-year-old protested. "I didn't do anything to them, sir! They just beat me up!"

"Severus, these boys were sorted into Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve and chivalry set the Gryffindors apart," Dumbledore recited mechanically. "What you describe is completely out of character of Gryffindor House. James and Sirius wouldn't attack you out of spite. It must have been a misunderstanding. Besides, Madam Pomfrey fixed you up so quickly, it couldn't have been that bad."

"But—"

Dumbledore hastily interrupted. "Severus, if you are so upset about the loss of your sweets, then take this." With a cavalier flick of the wrist, Dumbledore tossed a lemon drop in Snape's general direction. "Off you go, now."

With slumped shoulders and teary eyes, Snape hung his head and trudged out the office, surrendering all hope of being listened to, cared for, or receiving justice.

 ***** Second year *****

"Give it back! It's mine!" Twelve year-old Snape pumped his skinny little legs furiously as he chased the two bullies out the castle gates and onto the Quidditch pitch.

"Come and get it!" James sneered. He dangled the pilfered treasure tauntingly in the air. The two boys had stolen the "Best Friends Forever" necklace that Lily had given Severus.

"Best friends forever?" Sirius chortled. "Hah! Who'd want to be friends with greasy old Snivellus?"

"Give it back!" Snape grabbed a rock and hurled it in their direction. James and Sirius dodged aside with ease.

"Missed by a mile! Wow Snivelly, your aim sucks and you are so weak! What are you going to next? Hit us with your purse? Throw your snotty tissues at us?"

James and Sirius ducked into the shed and emerged with three broomsticks. "If you want your sissy little necklace, come and chase us!" Sirius tossed one of the brooms at Snape, before he and James kicked off the ground and soared high into the air.

Snape hesitated. He was an abysmal Quidditch player, and barely knew how to fly. Due to the abject poverty he had grown up in, he had never even owned a broomstick. But he had to get his precious necklace back. What would Lily say if he lost it? Without a second thought, Snape mounted the broomstick and launched himself into the air.

"Give it back!" he shouted through chattering teeth. Snape gripped the handle so tightly, the joints of his knuckles were on the verge of rupturing. He couldn't disguise it; he was terrified of flying. He could barely keep the broom steady, and only by pinching his knees and thighs tightly together, could he avoid tumbling off.

Potter and Black were excellent fliers. Especially Potter. He moved about so effortlessly, performing a rapid succession of somersaults and sharp-angled turns, Snape was getting dizzy just watching him. But the greasy little boy had a mission, and he wasn't going to give it up.

James twirled the necklace in the air. "Come and get it, Snivelly!" Snape clung to the broom with all his might as he made a beeline for Potter.

WHAM!

Snape nearly fell off his broom as Black smashed into him from behind. "Whoops, sorry! Didn't see you!" Black taunted, before spiraling away into the air. It took several minutes for Snape to catch his breath and at least somewhat calm the frantic palpitations of his heart. Sirius now had the necklace.

Turning his attention to his new target, Snape rushed forward. He was within ten feet of Sirius when James suddenly rammed him from the left, and sent Snape careening into a tree. Both bullies howled with laughter as Snape struggled to extricate himself from the branches. His elbows were scraped and bleeding, and dozens of twigs were caught in his greasy hair and torn robes.

Soon the bullies grew tired of their little game. "Fetch!" James shouted as he threw the necklace at a castle wall.

With his eyes fixed on the delicate golden necklace framed against the formidable backdrop of the castle wall, Snape charged forward. Faster and faster he went, until he was almost there…

CRASH!

Snape screamed in horrible agony as both his kneecaps shattered against the immovable mass of stone. Lights exploded in his eyes. A thousand white-hot knives and basilisk fangs were obliterating every inch of his body, shredding through every nerve, tendon, joint and ligament… splitting the bone to its marrow. Shuddering spasms of pain shot up both legs and exploded in his brain in pulsating waves. The child sobbed pitifully and clung to his broken body as he rolled off the broomstick and fell onto the soft grass below.

James and Sirius tossed the necklace at him. "All yours, Snivelly." The two boys quickly vanished from sight before anyone could show up to catch them.

 **More of Snape's old memories in the next chapter! Don't worry, justice will be served and Snape will have a happier ending than he did in canon  
**


	5. Flashbacks 2

**Thank you so much to all my wonderful readers and reviewers! Your support is truly the lifeblood of this story (much like the Blood Replenishing Potion that poor Severus had to take in Chapters 3 and 4)**

 **In the books, it is implied that Snape was a little more capable of defending himself against the Marauders. But I've decided to make him more vulnerable, since this story is about the softer side of our favorite Potions Master.**

 **Now, onto Chapter 5!**

The potion fizzed gently as it absorbed Snape's memories. The greasy-haired boy could not hold back the tears that poured down his sallow cheeks, as he was forced to relive two torturous moments that he so desperately wanted to forget. But it had to be done. In order for these memories to be transferred into his potion and destroyed forever, he must endure them one final time.

Besides, there were plenty more memories to be withdrawn. So Snape raised his wand to his oily forehead and continued.

 ***** Third year *****

"Merry Christmas, Sev!" With glowing eyes and a bright smile, Lily tossed a neatly wrapped package to her friend.

Snape's fingers trembled as he untied the ribbon. Taking great care not to rip a single bit of the wrapping paper, he slowly unwrapped every flap and fold, until his gift was revealed.

A beautiful emerald green sweater, softer than a downy pillow, tumbled softly onto the bed. Snape could not peel his eyes away from the heavenly sight. He dared not lay a finger on it. What if the sweater disintegrated with the slightest touch? What if the sweater was as tenuous and evanescent as his hopelessly naïve fantasy that the most wonderful Lily could love someone as pathetic as Severus Snape? What if he was hallucinating? What if this was all a dream, and he would soon wake up and find himself spending another Christmas Day alone?

With utmost tenderness and caution, as if the sweater was the most fragile thing on earth, he held it out at arm's length. No, this was not a dream. Embroidered on the front of the sweater was a silver cauldron full of glistening potion. Snape's eyes filled with grateful tears.

"Molly Weasley taught me how to knit last summer," Lily explained proudly. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" Snape choked. He hugged the sweater tightly to his chest. "Lily, this is the best gift I've ever gotten!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Snape sat down on an armchair and laid the sweater across his lap. He sat there lovingly caressing it for ten minutes. He didn't care how silly he looked, losing himself in mindless adoration. There in his hands was concrete proof that Lily Evans was his friend, and all the taunts in the world couldn't take that away from him.

The clock tower struck eight. Soon it would be time for breakfast. Making sure to give Lily's gift the proper respect it deserved, Snape rushed to the bathroom and spent nearly an hour washing his hair, before pulling the sweater over his head. He spent another several minutes beaming at his reflection, before heading down to the dining hall.

Snape had barely finished descending the stairs, when he was accosted by James Potter and Sirius Black. "Nice sweater, Snivelly!" James taunted.

"Lily gave it to me!" Snape declared. "Merry Christmas!" he added cheerily. Nothing was going to ruin his mood today.

Or so he thought.

Snape had barely taken three steps into the dining hall, when a hand closed tightly around his wrist and dragged him back out to the corridor. "Where do you think you're going, Snivelly?" Sirius cackled maliciously.

Snape glared at the two bullies. "I think I'm going to go have breakfast with my dear friend Lily. And after that we're going to Hogsmeade together. Now leave me alone!" He roughly jerked himself free from Sirius' grip. But quick as a flash, James had him pinned against the wall.

"How dare you sit next to Lily," James threatened. "One look at you, and she'll lose her appetite for the next two weeks. And how dare you spread these ridiculous lies that she would give presents to a greasy scumbag like you?"

"Well, she did! And there's nothing you can do about it!" Snape stomped hard on James' foot, forcing him to momentarily loosen his grip. Snape tried to wriggle free, but James was too quick.

"Challenge accepted, Snivelly!" Before Snape could draw his wand, James grabbed Snape by the wrists, and twisted both arms painfully behind his back. "Repeat after me," he ordered. " _Lily Evans only pretends to be my friend_."

"Never!" Snape screamed defiantly.

Sirius seized a fireplace poker leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor. "I think our dear Snivelly needs some convincing." He raised the poker and whacked Snape in the rear end. When Snape's teeth remained clenched, Sirius jabbed the long iron rod sharply against the side of his head.

James tightened his grip and forced Snape to his knees. "Say it!" he demanded. " _Lily Evans only pretends to be my friend. Lily Evans never gave me anything for Christmas. I stole this sweater from Diagon Alley_." But Snape refused to give in.

"I've had it with all this nonsense," Sirius growled. He marched into the dining hall and emerged moments later with a tray full of bacon grease. Grinning at James, he emptied the contents of the tray over Snape's head. "Merry Christmas, Snivelly!"

"NO!" Snape screamed in horror as the pernicious bacon grease soaked its way into every inch of the fluffy green sweater. With a herculean effort, he broke free and whipped out his wand. "SCOURGIFY! SCOURGIFY! SCOURGIFY!"

"Too late, Snivellus!" Sirius kicked Snape's arm, and sent his wand skittering away down the corridor. Snape dove for his fallen wand, but James tackled him to the hard stony floor, with both hands around the smaller boy's neck.

"LET ME GO!" Snape shrieked, tears of panic and desperation blurring his vision. He twisted his head sideways and bit down on James' hand with all his might. The coppery scent of blood ran through his teeth.

"Ouch! You'll pay for that, you greasy bastard!" James howled furiously as he clutched his bleeding hand. Seizing two fistfuls of soft green yarn, James pulled and tugged with all his might.

All three boys fell deathly silent as the deafening cacophony of tearing fabric filled the air. For a few tense seconds, the entire corridor was eerily silent. Then Snape let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" Snape's eyes were bloodshot and delirious as he beheld the pitiful remains of what had been, fifteen minutes ago, a beautiful, untarnished, and impeccably flawless work of art. He blinked furiously several times and gave himself a vicious pinch. There was no way this was really happening! This had to be a nightmare!

But it was a nightmare from which he would not be waking up. A torrential outpouring of tears and mucus gushed down his face, forming a row of slimy stalactites on his chin, before slithering to the floor. Snape collapsed to his knees in a blubbering heap, with the tattered remains of Lily's precious gift still cradled to his heart.

 ***** Fourth Year *****

James whispered furtively behind Professor Sprout's back, during some down time in their afternoon Herbology class. "Hey Padfoot, I dare you." James pretended to flick some bubotuber pus in Snape's direction. With his head bent low and tendrils of greasy hair shrouding both sides of his face, Snape was so absorbed in his work, he was completely oblivious to their machinations.

"What difference does it make? It's not like his hair can get any more disgusting," Sirius whispered back. The two bullies broke into a silent fit of giggles.

"Shut up!" Lily Evans hissed indignantly. James blew a kiss at her, and glanced in Professor Sprout's direction from the corner of his eye. Her head and shoulders were buried in a cupboard as she searched for extra fertilizer. It was now or never.

"Now!" James hollered. In an instant, he and Sirius sent two flagons full of bubotuber pus flying in Snape's direction, soaking every inch of his robes.

"OUCH!" Snape furiously rubbed at the angry red and yellow boils that were erupting over his skin. He whipped out his wand. "Aguamenti!" A jet of water washed over his robes, but the thick green pus remained solidly in place. It was no use. Within a matter of seconds, ever inch of his arms and torso were covered with boils.

"Oh no!" Professor Sprout raced to his side. "Severus, quick! You have got to get out of these contaminated clothes!"

"No! Professor, it's okay! See?" Snape sent another stream of water over himself. The water provided minimal alleviation, but Snape had to keep up the act. He would rather die than strip naked in front of Potter and Black.

"Severus, NOW!" It was no use. The boils were growing larger and more painful every second, as if he had been stung by ten thousand wasps. Snape had no choice. With tears of the deepest rage and humiliation in his eyes, Snape tore off his robes and underclothes, until he stood stark naked in front of the entire class. James and Sirius trembled with silent laughter as they giggled, whispered, and pointed at various parts of Snape's exposed body.

Professor Sprout led Snape behind a curtain and began applying a soothing cream to his wounded skin. The boils instantly started to recede. But the real pain was in his mind. Snape clenched his fists in fury, shaking all over, as tears of humiliation leaked from his tightly closed eyes. He knew what was going to happen. It was all too familiar a routine. Other teachers would report Potter and Black to the Headmaster, but Dumbledore would always absolve the two bullies under the guise of "Boys will be boys."

Snape ground his teeth together. Dumbledore didn't give a damn about him. Snivelly wasn't wealthy, handsome, popular, or talented at Quidditch, so there was no reason his side of the story should ever be heard.

* * *

 _Back to the present…_

Snape leaned over the cauldron and let a steady stream of tears pour into the swirling potion mixture. How he longed to be rid of these wretched memories! If only Lord Voldemort could teach him the Unforgivable Curses! He would have Potter and Black shrieking in agony, foaming at the mouth until they lost control of bodies, rolling around in puddles of their own blood, vomit and feces. And then he'd lift the curse only if they begged hard enough. _No,_ Snape quickly reminded himself. _I promised Lily._

Finally, the potion was finished. Snape silently congratulated himself on a job well done. Already he could feel the joy and peace coursing through his veins. Just one goblet of his own special potion, and those wicked Marauders would never again haunt his past. Never again would he see the sneering faces of James Potter and Sirius Black laughing in the darkness.

Unfortunately, that was not how it happened. A sudden, loud cough brought Snape out of his fantasies and back to reality. His heart stopped.

There, framed in the doorway of the bathroom, with their wands drawn and pointed at him, stood James Potter and Sirius Black.

Black scowled at him. "Two hundred twenty to eighty. Gryffindor lost for the first time in five years. You know what that means?"

Potter's face twisted into a malicious grin. "Payback, Snivelly."


	6. The Snitch

**To all my Guest reviewers to whom I unfortunately cannot reply directly: Thank you for your kind words and continued support!**

 **Some Reviewer:** **It looks like our poor Snape is in another tight situation. Let's see how (or should I say "if") he gets out of this one unscathed!**

 **Chapter 6 is here! As always, any and all feedback is welcome! I love to hear what you guys have to say, and I hope that this chapter provides some more fodder for good discussions**

Snape plunged a hand into his robes at lightning speed, groping for his wand with bony fingers and unkempt nails. But a loud cry of " _Expelliarmus_!" from James sent his wand flying across the bathroom. From an adjacent stall, Moaning Myrtle emitted a slow, doleful wail.

"What do you want?" Snape growled with all the venom and vituperation he could muster.

"You're dead, Snivelly." Sirius' voice was deathly soft.

"Gryffindor lost the Quidditch Cup because of you. Snivellus, you've screwed us over for the last time!" James and Sirius took another step forward, backing Snape into a corner. Snape quickly ducked behind his potions cauldron.

"How is it my fault that you couldn't catch the stupid Snitch? Weren't you just saying that you could've done it in five minutes?" Snape demanded. "What's the matter, can't back up your own talk?"

Somewhere in a distant corridor, several floors below their feet, the sound of revelry and merrymaking could faintly be heard. For the first time in a century, Hufflepuff was celebrating a Quidditch Cup. Their long-awaited victory had come at the expense of a star-studded Gryffindor Team, and this was unacceptable to James Potter.

"Don't play stupid! Look at you, playing with your stupid little potions kit, acting all innocent!" James slapped Snape roundly across the face. Snape's head whiplashed back and forth, his filthy hair flailing through the air in undulating waves. Layer upon layer of dandruff, grease, and lice formed a solid crust around individual locks of hair, like barnacles clinging to seaweed.

"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about. Whatever happened to you, it's not my fault. Now beat it! I'm trying to finish my potion here." Snape made a furious move to swing back at James, but the latter nimbly ducked aside.

"Potter was kicked off the Quidditch Team for putting you in your place one too many times," Sirius explained heatedly. "There's no point denying it. We know you ratted us out to McGonagall. Probably made up some garbage story about poor little Snivelly as an innocent victim."

"I didn't say anything!" Snape protested. Fear was slowly replacing his anger. Although Snape felt a pang of triumph at the knowledge that his tormentors had finally been brought to justice, the gratification was fleeting. He was in trouble. Severus Snape was now a wanted man. If Potter had truly been kicked off the Quidditch Team on his behalf, there'd be dozens of irate Gryffindors itching to get revenge.

* * *

 _A few hours earlier…_

"The answer is no, Potter. I'd appreciate if you'd stop pestering me."

"But Professor, if we lose this match, we lose the Cup!" James protested, his broomstick clutched tightly to his chest. "We can't play without a Seeker!"

"I am aware of that," Professor McGonagall responded briskly. "Now, are you aware that Severus has been permanently disfigured by your little prank? Venomous Tentacula is no joke. There is also nothing funny about stripping someone naked in public. Consider yourselves lucky that you weren't expelled."

"So it's true?" Sirius perked up. "I thought it was just a rumor, that Sniv— _Severus_ had to get a part of his buttock amputated."

Deep down inside, James had been in shock and horror when he first learned that the innocuous-looking branch he used to deliver Snape's flogging had been Venomous Tentacula. He had been genuinely terrified by the enormity of what he had done. When Snape was in the hospital wing receiving surgery, James had spent an entire sleepless night in equal agony… tormented by what-ifs… hoping and praying with every fiber of his being that his prank had not produced deadly consequences. When morning dawned and James learned that Snape survived, he had shed tears of relief and resolved to be kinder to that scrawny, unkempt boy who was everyone's favorite victim.

However, bravado and recalcitrance would not allow him to express these tender feelings. Any overt display of sympathy would be a sign of weakness. If he agreed that what he'd done was absolutely heinous, he'd be agreeing with Professor McGonagall that he deserved to be banned from Quidditch. It would be a cold day in hell when James Potter quietly acquiesced to his removal from the Quidditch Team. No matter the circumstances, James could not hide his resentment at being kicked off the team.

James refused to make himself any more vulnerable and helpless than what he already felt. So the only alternative was to continue making a mockery of Snape.

"Maybe we should've caned him with a basilisk fang," James whispered to Sirius. "Then Snivelly's arse would have turned black and rotted off." Sirius doubled over and his face reddened in a fit of suppressed giggles.

"Enough!" The two boys gulped and quickly swallowed their impudence.

Professor McGonagall glanced at her watch. "The match begins in thirty minutes. When you find yourself watching from the stands instead of in the air with the rest of the team, Potter, remember that you've got no one to blame but yourself. Oh, and one more thing—" she hastily added as James and Sirius began to slouch away. The boys stopped in their tracks.

"Kindly return your Quidditch robes to Madam Hooch tomorrow afternoon. You won't be needing them anymore."

* * *

 _Back to the present..._

"You're dead, Snivelly," Sirius repeated. Sparks flew from the end of his wand, nearly igniting the tip of Snape's excessively large and oily nose. "Believe me, people are not happy with you. Everyone knows you cost Gryffindor this Quidditch Cup, and the next two as well. Don't try to deny it."

Snape's voice rose in desperation. "I didn't tell McGonagall anything! I swear it on Veritaserum! Lily Evans was there, remember? She must have been the one who told!"

A slap from Sirius bloodied Snape's nose and drove his incisors deep into his lower lip. "Liar! How dare you try and blame this on Lily!"

Snape's black eyes flitted back and forth between the door and the faces of his bullies. He had no hope of overpowering his tormentors or escaping. Snape briefly considered tossing the contents of his cauldron into their faces and making a run for the door, but quickly decided against it. Dumbledore had never taken his claims of self-defense seriously in the past. Why would anything be different this time?

"I didn't rat you out! I'm telling you, it was Lily!" Snape spat furiously. He pressed both elbows against the bathroom wall and hoisted himself back to his feet. But a stabbing jolt of agony exploded in his recently-amputated left buttock, paralyzing him at the hip. Snape's knees buckled and he collapsed back to the floor in a convoluted mess of filthy robes.

James stomped forward and smashed his fist into Snape's face with such vigor, his nose could be heard shattering like a melon dropped on concrete. Snape howled in agony as his neck snapped backwards and collided hard with the bathroom wall. A crimson waterfall streamed from both nostrils, forming a puddle on the tiled floor.

James nodded in satisfaction. "That was for getting me banned from Quidditch. For trying to pin your cowardice on Lily. And most importantly, for being a greasy, slimy, wannabe Death Eater who needs to be put in his place once and for all!"

"I'm not a Death Eater!" Snape shrieked. Miniscule flecks of blood were expelled from his nose and mouth with every word he spoke. "I promised Lily I wouldn't dabble in that stuff anymore. And I swear I didn't tell McGonagall anything, you have to believe—

But Snape's pitiful protests of innocence were silenced when James landed a solid kick to his stomach, rendering him incapable of breathing for thirty seconds. When Snape caught his breath again, he dove for his fallen wand, which had rolled under a counter. But Sirius quickly seized the cauldron of potion and emptied it over Snape's head.

Snape screamed in pain as the scalding liquid soaked through his robes and drenched his skin. Lashing out in an adrenaline-fueled frenzy, he managed to land a kick in Potter's face, splitting his lip. But the two Gryffindors quickly regained the upper hand as Snape was pinned to the bathroom floor. James stood over his prostrate form, kicking him in the ribs and stomach. Sirius sat on Snape's back, repeatedly bashing the now-empty cauldron into his head. Snape's face collided repeatedly against the mildewy floor. His teeth chipped against the hard ceramic, as he gagged on the blood that was now cataclysmically pouring out his nose and tricking into his throat and sinuses.

 _It's over,_ Snape thought miserably, as his vision blurred and his surroundings devolved into a miasma of hazy images and indiscernible sounds. _I won't be the first student to die in this bathroom. Good-bye Lily, I love you._

"IMPEDIMENTA!" A powerful, authoritative voice reverberated throughout the bathroom walls. Snape was mercifully relieved from further assault, as Potter and Black were blasted halfway across the room.

Dumbledore stood in the bathroom doorway, with his wand clutched in a trembling fist. Grief and reproach were etched into every line of his ancient face. His blue eyes had lost the grandfatherly warmth that they usually possessed, and were instead clouded with silent rage. Finally, he spoke in a soft, mournful tone.

"Potter and Black. The pride of Gryffindor House. I can't believe it. I never wanted to believe it… For five long years, I took refuge in the sanctuary of ignorance that I had constructed to shut out all unwelcome noise. But Truth has come knocking on my door, and I can avoid it no longer." There was a distinct crackle in his voice, and Snape was almost certain he could see tears glistening in the older man's eyes.

Dumbledore waved his wand offhandedly, and Snape could almost instantly feel the pain recede from his broken, bruised body. "You're dismissed, Severus." Before Dumbledore could change his mind about administering justice, Snape hurried out the bathroom door without another word of inquiry.

Then he snapped his fingers to lift the Impediment Jinx from the two Gryffindors.

"To my office, both of you." With their heads hanging low and every trace of a smirk vanished from their countenances, James Potter and Sirius Black rose to their feet. Dumbledore glared at the two miscreants. "Hand over your wands. No more funny business."

The boys silently followed Dumbledore up a spiral staircase, where a lonely door stood guarded by two gargoyles. "Sherbet Lemon." The door slid open to reveal a cozy-looking room decorated with glass trinkets of all shapes and sizes. A marble fireplace took residence on the wall opposite of Dumbledore's desk, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. The walls were adorned with a formidable lineup of portraits, displaying the past Hogwarts Headmasters in all their enshrined glory. James and Sirius visibly cringed as a dozen pairs of reproachful eyes glared at them.

Finally, James found his voice. "What is going to happen to us, Headmaster?"

Before Dumbledore could respond, the door opened again and the portly figure of Cornelius Fudge stepped over the threshold. "Two of them, Albus. Just as you requested."

"Thank you, Cornelius." There was great pain in Dumbledore's voice. "Your assistance is very much appreciated."

The Minister of Magic grimaced sympathetically at James and Sirius, before turning his attention back to Dumbledore. "Don't overdo it," he muttered out the corner of his mouth. "They're just boys, not hardened criminals."

James and Sirius' eyes widened in alarm and their hearts began to palpitate wildly. The Minister of Magic was somehow involved in their punishment? What was going to happen to them? Were they getting expelled? Prosecuted?

There was great sadness in Dumbledore's eyes as he turned to face the two Gryffindors that he had been so loathe to punish, but now had no choice.

"Your popularity and talent do not exempt you from the school rules or the rules of common decency. We should have realized that a long time ago. Today I must give you a taste of what fate awaits people who cannot conduct themselves with civility."

A sudden draft of frigid air rippled through the cozy room. Fawkes the phoenix bolted from his perch to hide behind Dumbledore's desk. The fire instantly fizzed out, causing both boys to shiver uncontrollably, as if an icy blade sheared against their skin.

A hoarse, rattling sound began vibrating faintly through the walls… in an unmistakable sign of what was to come.

 **Well, our bullies have finally been brought to justice. What do you think Dumbledore has in mind for them?**


	7. The Kiss

**Welcome back!**

 **When I first started writing this story, I intended for it to end as a humorous one-shot to pick up where Snape's Worst Memory left off. However, since Snape's backstory is so rich and complex, it felt inadequate to simply leave it at that. So I've decided to make this into a full-length story exploring the "what would have happened" alternate history—if Lily decided to give Snape one more chance.**

 **Would he still become a Death Eater? Would Lily have still ended up with James? How would Snape's adult personality have been different? Let's find out!**

 **Chapter 7:**

A gust of cold swept through the cozy office, eliciting violent shivers in James and Sirius. The icy wind grinded mercilessly against their skin like a blade of ice. But nothing chilled their souls more than the indefinable air of dread and isolation that suddenly permeated the entire room.

For some nebulous, intangible reason that he could not pinpoint, James felt a gnawing emptiness inside. But why? What could be the cause of this sudden drop in the emotional climate? He was the beloved son of doting parents, had enough money to satisfy his every whim… was handsome, smart, a Quidditch phenom… adored by his fellow students. Girls were magnetically drawn to his wit and charm. James Potter lived every teenager's dream. Why, then, did he suddenly feel so lost and disenfranchised?

His thoughts were interrupted before he could articulate a single question or pose a single conjecture. The hoarse, rattling sound of breath being drawn into a parched throat—which had moments ago been vibrating from afar—was now sinisterly closing in.

"Sir, what is this?" Sirius demanded aloud. "What are you doing?" The door creaked open, but it wasn't Dumbledore.

Two wraithlike figures, standing twelve feet tall and shrouded in a tattered black robe, drifted into door like two clouds of smoke. "Is this some kind of joke?" James attempted to maintain a tough, invulnerable demeanor, but could not disguise the fear in his voice.

"Seriously, what the hell—" James stopped his tirade abruptly as one of the two figures glided forward and backed him into a corner. The other being had done the same to Sirius.

"Who on earth wants to avenge Snivelly this badly? Does Snivelly have a secret boyfriend we don't know about?" Sirius wondered aloud. He emitted a loud chuckle, but failed miserably to suppress the chatter of his teeth and the frenzied palpitations of his heart.

The little humor that remained in the situation was quickly extinguished, as both hooded creatures bore down on their victims and extended a clawlike hand. All five fingers were copiously mottled with grape-sized boils and scabs. The clammy gray skin was stretched tautly over the angular protrusions of their horribly misshapen bones and knuckles. James and Sirius were on the verge of vomiting, as the putrid stench of rotting flesh and moldy logs flooded their nostrils.

"Get away from us!" But the creatures paid no heed as their hands closed around the boys' throats. The scraggly yellow fingernails dug painfully into their skin. James and Sirius gasped for breath and desperately try to free themselves from the viselike grip. But their strength drained quickly and their vision blurred, as the air slowly but surely dropped to subarctic temperatures.

"Help…" Sirius wheezed with great difficulty. His eyes glazed over, and a distinct aura of infirmity clouded over the youthful vigor he once possessed. James was in no better shape. He drifted in and out of consciousness. His face was absent of all color, except for a bluish tint begotten of hypothermia.

"Get… off…" he gasped feebly. But the hooded creature showed no mercy. James could hardly breathe as the frigid air constricted his trachea and lacerated the delicate membranes of his sinuses. His hands, sinewy and strong, girded with all the dexterity befitting the greatest Seeker Hogwarts had seen in a century, were now paralyzed in an icy arthritis. His fingertips were completely frozen, and marred with the tenebrous hue of frostbite. The carpal bones of his hands and wrists were on the verge of splintering, as ice crystals nucleated and forcibly erupted in jagged formations. Several fingernails had become brittle and split in half. Gust after gust of frosty wind sheared mercilessly against the tender, exposed flesh.

"Please… stop…" James' voice was barely a tortured whisper.

 _Please stop?_ A nasty little voice cackled in his head. _Why should I? You never stopped all those times Severus begged you to leave him alone. So why should I stop now?_

"I… can't…"

 _Hah!_ The voice exploded triumphantly. _Just look at you! James Potter, the pride of Gryffindor House, begging for mercy._

"But… Snivellus…" James dropped to his knees as a pang of cold jolted his stomach. Icy tendrils began wrapping themselves around his heart in a crushing grip. But the voice in his head had no sympathy for his plight.

 _You think you're so great, but I'll tell you what you really are, James Potter. You are nothing but a nasty little boy who hides behind friendship and nepotism. Tell me, when was the last time you bullied anyone without your mates standing behind you? Without your precious Invisibility Cloak at hand? Now that you've got no one but yourself to rely on, your true nature has been revealed: A sniveling, incoherent coward. Who's the real Snivelly now?_

"Shut… up…" His heart throbbed painfully as subzero temperatures continued to envelop his body inside out.

 _I will not shut up. Because I speak the truth. What have you ever done, James Potter, besides hide your complete lack of character and integrity beneath that pathetic veneer of Quidditch talent? What have you ever accomplished, without a horde of dimwitted adults so hopelessly biased and ignorant and ready to bail you out of every mess you've ever created?_

"Go… away… please…" James doubled over in agony. He desperately tried to block the sinister little voice from his consciousness, but it plowed on inexorably.

 _I can't go away,_ the voice continued to taunt. _Because I live within you. I am the truth that you have subconsciously known all along, but were too arrogant and blind to admit. I have peered into the depths of your soul… I dwell within your very flesh and marrow… there is nothing hidden within you I cannot see…_

Finally, James could handle it no more. He slumped over in complete and utter surrender as the demonic creature leaned in and clamped its powerful jaws around his mouth. The icy claw was tightening its grip around James' heart, and at any moment, it would strangle the life out of him.

* * *

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" The voice of Albus Dumbledore exploded violently in his ears. James instantly felt the wretched creature release its grip around his neck. Warmth and light flooded back into the frozen hell into which James and Sirius were merely seconds away from being lost forever.

As both Dementors fled the office, Dumbledore tucked his wand back into his lavender-colored robes. There was great sadness in his countenance as he beheld James and Sirius, deathly pale and drenched in sweat, gasping for air. For ten long minutes, neither boy opened his eyes or uttered a sound.

Finally, James' eyelid fluttered and he stirred feebly. After several painful exertions, he managed to struggle into a sitting position. "What was that?" he barely gasped.

"That was a Dementor," came the solemn reply. "Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places. They glory in decay and despair. They drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them... Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself... soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life."

"Why?" Sirius had begun breaking out of his catatonic state as well. "Why?"

Dumbledore dabbed behind his half-moon spectacles with a light blue handkerchief. "My child, it is necessary that you experience this for yourselves. Every cruel word, every manipulative scheme, every antagonistic gesture, leaves an irreversible wound upon the one on the receiving end. The actions of a bully maim and disfigure those poor souls he chooses to target. It is my sincere hope that after the tragic but necessary events of today, I will never hear the words _Snivellus_ or _Snivelly_ in Hogwarts ever again."

"Yes sir." With hanging heads, anemically white faces, and tears of a broken will shimmering in their languid eyes, James and Sirius slumped out of Dumbledore's office, never again to bully another soul.

 **Yup, James and Sirius have had their first brush with a Dementor's Kiss. I borrowed Lupin's explanation of Dementors from Book 3.**

 **What do you think? Is** **Snivelly** **safe at last, or will more trouble be heading the way of our young Potion's Master?**


	8. Repentance?

**A big thank-you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Your feedback is what keeps me motivated. Now, for some Lily/Snape friendship fluff.**

 **Chapter 8:**

The following two weeks were some of the strangest that Hogwarts students and staff had seen in years.

James Potter and Sirius Black dutifully attended their classes each and every day, with straight faces and solemn voices. They only spoke when spoken to. Every sentence was punctuated with, "Yes sir, no sir. Yes ma'am, no ma'am." There were no snarky comments or clandestine games of Exploding Snap in the back of the classroom.

Gone was the bravado and swagger that had once permeated the boys' every movement. Instead, their eyes were dull with the tragic cynicism of a once proud creature that had been thoroughly broken and demoralized. James and Sirius walked through the corridors with their heads hanging low, avoiding eye contact and timidly jumping aside whenever anyone passed them in the corridors.

Professor McGonagall pinched herself repeatedly during an afternoon Transfiguration lesson. "This has to be a dream," she kept saying.

During meals, James and Sirius sat catatonically in their seats, staring into space, hardly touching their food at all. Both boys had lost a significant amount of weight. Their faces were anemically pale and their hands icy cold.

But the strangest was yet to come.

One Saturday morning, the two Gryffindors approached the Slytherin table at breakfast. James timidly reached out to tap Snape on the shoulder. The greasy-haired teen scowled viciously as he turned around to face his long-time tormentor.

"What do you want?" Snape growled.

James stared back at him with humble and contrite eyes. "Severus, I'm not here to give you a hard time. I only want to apologize for… everything. We made your life hell for five years."

Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously. His obsidian orbs scanned meticulously over James' face, searching for any hint of an ulterior motive. "What's this really about? What are you trying to do here?"

"We aren't trying to get anything out of this," Sirius reassured him. "There is no hidden agenda. We simply want to convey—"

Snape turned away. "This is another trick. Get away from me."

James and Sirius hesitated. Apologizing for their misdeeds was such a foreign concept to the two Gryffindors, they were at a loss for what to say next. All they could do was dither about aimlessly.

Snape seized a pitcher of pumpkin juice from the dining table, and threw it into their faces. "You've made your point. Now beat it!"

The former bullies had barely taken a few steps in the opposite direction, when Snape grabbed two fistfuls of silverware, and flung it at their retreating backs with all the force and ferocity he could muster. "GET OUT!" he screamed lividly, his cheeks crimson with rage. "IF YOU DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE, I'LL HEX YOUR FACES OFF!" Snape swore loudly and stomped away from the table, his mood and appetite ruined.

As Snape stormed past the Gryffindor table on his way out of the Great Hall, at least a dozen people attempted to trip him.

"Why so cranky, Snivelly? Lost your shampoo again?" sneered Lauren Brown.

"It looks like Snivelly lost his shampoo years ago," snickered Patricia Patil.

"Yeah Snivelly, what are you so _butthurt_ about?" Steve Finnigan taunted. Cameron McLaggen and Dave Thomas howled with laughter at the clever reference to Snape's encounter with Venomous Tentacula.

With his head down and his eyes fixed on the floor, Snape cast a wordless _Langlock_ hex in their direction, silencing their snide giggles. Unfortunately, his path to the door was obstructed when the Gryffindor Quidditch Team stood up at once and formed a menacing ring around the hapless Slytherin.

Captain Orville Wood towered over the scrawny, nerdy, unathletic boy. "Well, well, well… looks like we've caught ourselves a _Snitch_!" The rest of the team gave a hearty laugh.

Chaser Angela Johnson was glaring at him with profound loathing. "So this is the little Slytherin rat who lost us the Quidditch Cup."

"I didn't do anything!" Snape shouted heatedly. "It's not my fault that Potter was kicked off the team!"

"You liar," Beater Fabian Prewitt hissed. "James had the right idea. I ought to—

"—Slice off the other half of your arse," his twin Gideon finished the sentence.

"No!" Snape's hand instinctively flew to his left buttock, which had begun to throb excruciatingly. The apple-sized chunk of flesh that Madam Pomfrey amputated had left a gaping void, leaving his hipbone terribly vulnerable and exposed. But the Gryffindor Team continued closing in.

"Stop!" A voice suddenly erupted. Seven pairs of eyes widened in shock as they beheld the source of the outcry. James Potter was sprinting across the dining hall.

James skidded to a halt in front of his former teammates. "Leave Severus alone," he continued breathlessly.

Steve Finnigan stared at him in disbelief. "James, this greasy little pile of dragon dung is the reason we lost the Quidditch Cup. You were on track to go down as the greatest Seeker in Hogwarts history, to make the Quidditch Hall of Fame… but Snivellus ruined everything you worked for."

James shook his head. "No, it was my fault. Severus didn't turn me in. McGonagall caught me on her own."

The Gryffindors gaped wordlessly at their disgraced Quidditch hero, before backing away from Snape and sitting back down. For a split second, Snape caught James' eye, and his lips began to part in a tentative word of thanks.

But five years of relentless enmity would not evaporate so readily. Snape's scowl returned.

"You don't fool me, Potter. This is another trick, and believe me, I am _not_ falling for it!" Snape raised a middle finger at James, before stomping out of the dining hall.

* * *

"Sev, wait up!" Lily raced to intercept Severus on his way to the library.

The dark-haired boy turned around. His gloomy countenance brightened at the sight of his best and only friend. "Lily! Want to work on the Potions homework with me?"

Lily draped an arm over his stiff, bony shoulders. "Of course. But Sev, there is something I think we should talk about first."

The two friends entered the mostly deserted library and settled into their favorite couch in the distant corner. Snape cast a quick _Muffliato_ spell to ensure that their conversation would not be overheard.

Lily broke the silence. "Severus, have you noticed something different about James Potter and Sirius Black?"

At the mention of their names, Snape's relaxed demeanor instantly tensed. "I try not to notice them at all," he responded curtly.

"You know what I mean," Lily pressed gently. "Something has changed about them. I have no idea what Dumbledore did, but it has clearly worked. Potter and Black have gone two whole weeks without sassing a teacher or hexing anyone in the corridors, or behaving like the arrogant toerags they've always been."

Snape was growing increasingly defensive. "It doesn't mean anything!" he insisted. "Nobody changes just like that. This is another trap, to make me let down my guard."

"Maybe," Lily admitted. "But Sev, you have to admit, it was brave of them to apologize like that yesterday."

"How can you say that?" Snape shouted, tears welling in his crestfallen eyes. How could dear, sweet Lily betray him like this? "Will _sorry_ un-amputate me? Will _sorry_ change the fact that I was five minutes away from dying, and will never be able to walk or sit without pain for the rest of my life?"

"Sev, I didn't mean it that way—"

"Will _sorry_ take back all those times I was stripped naked in front of the entire school? Will _sorry_ fix all those times Potter and Black beat me like a rag doll and left me for dead and stole what little pocket money I had?"

"No, wait—"

The tears were streaming freely down his sallow cheeks. "And will _sorry_ bring back the sweater you knit for me that year? That was the only Christmas present I've ever had, and I hardly got to keep it for half an hour!"

Snape could hardly breathe through his hacking sobs. "And Dumbledore! He never believed me! He was never there when it mattered. He never did anything until he had no choice. How can you defend him? Lily, _I thought you were my friend!_ " With a wail of the deepest anguish and rage, Snape bellowed out every curse word he knew, and viciously ripped apart the Potions textbook in his lap.

"Now Slughorn's gonna kill me," he mumbled miserably.

Lily wrapped both arms around her distraught friend, rubbing soothing circles into his back. How insensitive she had been, to trivialize his pain like that! Poor Severus had suffered more in his fifteen years than anyone should in a thousand lifetimes. Ever since they had first met, Lily had known that Severus was being abused at home. It was evident from his tattered clothing, emaciated figure, and the questionable bruises that peppered his face and arms.

On their first day at the train station, Severus had been so enthusiastic about Hogwarts, so full of hope and confidence in the new life he was about to lead. But the tragic reality settled in almost immediately: He had only exchanged one set of bullies and abusers for another.

Even now, as a teenager with formidable magical abilities and a fierce obsession with self-preservation, he felt so small and fragile in her arms. Severus was probably ninety-five pounds soaking wet, and could easily be mistaken for a third-year.

"Sev, I never meant to make you feel that way," Lily said gently. "All I'm saying is that you can rest knowing that justice has been served. We don't know what Dumbledore did, but I've never seen Potter so humble before, so it must have _really_ worked."

Snape regained his composure and straightened up. "Lily," he began. "I told you I would never dabble in the Dark Arts again, and I'd rather die than renege on a promise to you. But please, just let me have a little fun hexing Potter and Black in return. They've made my life absolute hell from Day One, and I've had to put up with it for so long. Please, just let me have my moment."

"All right, then." Lily released him from her hold. "But no Dark Magic. Agreed?"

Snape smiled through his teary eyes and clasped her hand. "Agreed."

 **Thank you for reading! Unfortunately, Snape's troubles are not yet over. We will see more of James/Sirius perspectives in the next chapter.  
**


	9. New Enemies

**Welcome back!**

 **In order to decide a few critical things for this story, it would be great if you, my awesome readers and reviewers, could share your opinions on a few issues:**

 **1\. Do you think there is ANY chance at all that Snape will eventually (by the time Harry's generation arrives at Hogwarts) make peace with all that James and Sirius did to him?**

 **2\. Of all the bullying flashback scenes from Chapters 4 and 5, which one did you think was the cruelest or most traumatic, and why?**

 **3\. Do you think James and Sirius' reformation was too quick to be convincing? Would it be more realistic if they did have occasional relapses back to their bullying ways in the remainder of their time at Hogwarts?**

 **Chapter 9:**

James Potter tossed and turned in his sleep, tormented by a very strange and disturbing dream.

 _He was sitting in the soft grass, reclining comfortably against his favorite beech tree. One exam left to go. His hazel eyes pored over page after page of notes, while his ears desperately tried to tune out the chattering voices that surrounded him on all sides. No amount of noise could distract James Potter from his studies, but the ebullient voices of his fellow students irked him in a different way. They reminded him painfully of his own lack of friends. Nobody wanted to hang out with Potty. Everyone hated that pathetic James Potter with his greasy hair, secondhand robes, and comically abysmal Quidditch skills._

 _James was so immersed in his studying, he failed to notice a foreboding presence lurking over his shoulder… until it was too late._

" _Expelliarmus!" A loud, arrogant voice interrupted his contemplations. James' wand flew into the air and landed twelve feet away. The beleaguered teen breathed heavily as he looked up to behold his attackers. Snape was marching forward with his goons in tow._

 _Severus Snape, his expression flush with all the confidence of a Quidditch star, twisted his handsome face into a sneer. "Why hello, Potty. What are you doing all by yourself a nice day like this?"_

 _Before James could respond, Snape flicked his wand, and James was hanging upside down in the air. His robes fell over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of underpants that hadn't been washed in a month._

 _A crowd of students had gathered to watch. Tears of devastation clouded James' eyes as a group of giggling girls pointed at his exposed underwear. "Why aren't you wearing any pants, Potty?" Snape taunted, raising his wand to lift James higher and higher into the air. "Did you wet yourself again? Is it true that your parents have to go hungry for a week in order to buy you fresh knickers?"_

" _Let me down, you bloody bastard!" James screamed. He kicked and thrashed desperately, struggling in vain to free himself._

" _Who wants to see me take off Potty's knickers?" Snape sang derisively. The crowd roared in approval._

" _Come on Sev, give the greasy bastard what he deserves!"_

" _I'll bet five Galleons that Potty still wears diapers!"_

" _Hey Sev, why don't you tickle him till he craps himself?"_

" _That can be swiftly arranged," Snape retorted smoothly. "Diffindo!"_

 _James' moldy, graying underwear split open at the seams, and fell lifelessly to the ground. His buttocks and privates were completely exposed to over a hundred pairs of hungry eyes. Snape spun James around in slow, deliberate circles, making sure that everyone could see everything. Making sure his paralyzed victim could not keep a single ounce of what little dignity he still had. James' face contorted into an ugly grimace as tears streamed down his cheeks and soaked into his already dirty and matted hair. He felt so vulnerable and worthless, and wanted to end his life._

" _Aww, Potty's crying! Look at him blubber!"_

 _The crowd exploded with laughter. Students rolled around in the grass, shrieking uncontrollably, choking on tears of mirth that streamed down their cheeks. The same group of girls doubled over, laughing themselves silly, pointing at various parts of James' exposed body. Snape's face was filled with triumph as he blew kisses to the crowd._

 _The worst was yet to come. "Who wants to see me beat the shit out of Potty?" The crowd screamed in delight, as if watching a particularly exciting Quidditch match._

 _Snape giggled maniacally and leaned in to whisper in James' ear. "When I said I was going to beat the shit out of you, I meant it quite literally." With great flourish, Snape reached into his bag to retrieve a curved, yellowish object roughly two feet long and as thick as a man's arm._

 _James' eyes widened in terror. "That's a basilisk fang!" he squeaked. "Where on earth did you get it?"_

 _Snape spun the basilisk fang around in a most pretentious manner, with all the agility of a star Seeker. He spoke in a slow, arrogant drawl. "Nicked it from Slughorn's private stores. You'd be surprised at how much you could get away with, if you were someone who was actually important." Pure savagery glistened in Snape's eyes as he tapped the basilisk fang against various parts of James' exposed buttocks, deciding where to land the first blow._

" _Please, Severus!" James voice devolved into a high-pitched whine, all his pride surrendered. "Please, anything but that! I beg you!"_

" _You gotta beg harder than that, Potty!" Snape drew back his arm and lashed his weapon viciously across the vulnerable, exposed flesh. "Take that, you little crybaby! And that!"_

 _James threw back his head and screamed uncontrollably as every ounce of his body was consumed in white-hot, searing agony. His throat was raw from screaming Snape's name, begging him to stop. But Snape showed no mercy. Volley after volley of taunts continued to fire from his lips, as Snape swung even harder, tearing away huge chunks of flesh and shredding his buttocks to mincemeat. The basilisk venom was doing its job as well, as a putrid black pus began slithering down James' leg. The crowd continued to chant, "Beat his arse! Beat his arse! Beat his arse!"_

" _If only your precious Lily could see you now!" Snape cackled. "Why would Lily want a greasy, slimy, no-good git like you, when she could be with me?"_

"NOOOOOOOO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" James bolted upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat and shaking with terror. But he was not the only one. To his left, Sirius was raving incoherently as well.

Remus was instantly clambering out of bed and racing to their sides. "Padfoot! Prongs! What happened?"

"SNAPE! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Remus grabbed his hands. "Prongs, look at me!" But all James could do was draw a deep, shuddering breath and vomit all over the sheets.

"I'll get help!" Peter's terrified voice squeaked from the darkness. The small, mousy boy could be heard scurrying down the stairs.

Moments later, a tall figure in a tartan gown was hurrying up the spiral staircase, faintly discernible in the moonlight. "Boys? What's going on up here?"

"SNAPE!" James screamed. "I'll kill you!"

"Potter? What is all this nonsense?" Professor McGonagall demanded. "Didn't I warn you not to have any further contact with Mr. Snape?"

"Bloody hell, Snape! Don't… take… leave me… stop…give back… my knickers…" James continued to rave incoherently. He lashed out blindly, his flailing fist missing Peter's face by inches.

Professor McGonagall could not hold back an ironic smile as comprehension dawned on her. It all made sense now. Stitching together the seemingly nonsensical bits and pieces of James' rant, a cohesive picture took form. With a simple flick of her wand, James calmed down and sanity returned to his eyes.

"It appears from your dream, Mr. Potter, that you possess more awareness and empathy than you are willing to act on."

James blinked several times. "That was a dream?"

Professor McGonagall conjured a chair and sat down across from James. "How does it feel to be impaled upon your own sword?"

"Terrible," James' hand involuntarily wandered behind his back, plucking repeatedly at the elastic waistband to confirm that his pants had not been removed. "I've never had a dream like that before, it was so real…"

"You are very lucky it was only a dream for you," Professor McGonagall confirmed grimly. "Everything you felt and saw in that dream was very real to Severus Snape. Now imagine having one of these episodes every day for five years."

"Bloody hell…" James mumbled. He shrunk away from her piercing gaze, wanting to disappear. The fear had been so overwhelming. He wanted to die from the overwhelming humiliation of being so vulnerable and exposed… from the incapacitating heartache that no one cared to feel his pain. Hundreds of fellow students had stood laughing at his suffering. No one spoke on his behalf. What right did he have to demand respect? He was nothing but a no-good, greasy git who deserved everything he got, simply because he existed. James drew a shuddering breath and dropped his head in shame. "Bloody hell…"

"Language, Potter," McGonagall chided. "Foul language won't get you in serious trouble, but you and Mr. Black have done enough to have gotten expelled ten times already. If either of you is caught bullying Severus Snape one more time, we will have no other choice."

* * *

 _A few hours earlier…_

The clock chimed twelve, and beams of moonlight bathed Hogwarts Castle in a silvery glow. Aside from the soft rustling of wind in the trees and the occasional hooting of an unseen owl, all was silent. There were no footsteps racing up and down the corridors. There was no fragrance of food wafting out from the Great Hall. There was no rambunctious chattering of students celebrating the end of the term, and releasing their pent-up energy in a binge of borderline illegal festivities. The only sign of activity was in a remote corner of the library. Beneath the dim candlelight, a greasy-haired teenage boy was packing up his books and stuffing a Potions essay into his bag.

Severus Snape arched his back and stretched both arms, soothing his cramped muscles and aching joints. He furiously massaged his aching, ink-stained fingers. Congratulating himself on a job well done, he rose to his feet and exited the library

The castle was so peaceful at night. The inky blackness was strangely soothing and comforting. Lost in his own thoughts, away from the crowds, away from the antics of his stupid schoolmates, was where Severus felt most in his element.

As Snape passed through one darkened hallway after another, the sweet air of freedom flooded his nostrils. He felt so at peace. Only in the tranquility of solitude could the lonely Slytherin disappear into the recesses of his mind, away from the giggling, gossiping idiots who congested the corridors on a daily basis.

Severus had nearly reached the dungeons, when a hand sprung out of a darkened corridor and grabbed him roughly around the upper arm. The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Years of relentless bullying had honed his self-defense instincts to near-perfection. He whipped out his wand and prepared to strike at the unseen assailant, the latest in a long line of people who had bullied and assaulted him over the years.

"Wand down, Snape, before you take someone's eye out," a familiar voice growled. As the voice registered in his memory, Severus lowered his wand. A lantern flickered, and the faces of Evan Rosier and Theodore Nott came into view. The dim orange glow cast an eerie shadow over their faces, giving the duo a demonic likeness.

"What do you want?" Snape hissed.

"The better question is, Half-Blood, what the hell are you doing sneaking about the corridors at night?" Rosier growled.

"I was in the library," Snape responded tartly. He gestured towards the bag slung over his opposite shoulder, "Finishing my Potions essay."

"Yeah? You and who else?" Nott demanded. "Was that Lily Evans Mudblood with you?"

"No!" Snape clenched his fist around the hem of his robe to prevent himself from throwing a punch at the belligerent Slytherins. How dare they talk about his precious Lily like that? "Why do you care, anyways?"

Rosier crossed his arms. "Well Snape, excuse me for saying so, but I have reason to question whether you are truly one of us. For starters, we don't recall seeing you at the Junior Death Eaters meeting two weeks ago."

"I was in the Hospital Wing," Snape grumbled. His honestly was instantly confirmed as the boys began ascending the spiral staircase leading to the Slytherin Common Room. As Snape hoisted himself onto the first step, a vibrating sensation shot up his leg and exploded in his left buttock in successive blasts of agony. His face contorted and he fell to his knees, incapacitated.

"Oh right, you were getting your arse amputated. Valid excuse." Rosier let out a loud, derisive chuckle. "How do you expect to be a soldier for the Dark Lord, if you can't even keep your knickers on?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Snape snarled. His face was turning white and both eyes began to water with pain. "They had me four against one!"

"You also missed the meeting for the Society of Pureblood Supremacy last week," Rosier continued. "What's your excuse for that?"

As they reached the top of the staircase, Snape could hardly breathe through his gasps of pain. Thankfully, he was spared from giving a response, when Nott cut in. "The point is, Snape, you have not shown the degree of commitment necessary to be part of such an important movement. We have emphasized again and again: This is war. Our way of life is under attack. If you aren't with us, you're against us."

"That's right," Rosier agreed. "Our ancestors gave life and limb to conquer the bottomless depths of magic, in the face of terrible adversity, and secure a future in which their children could study magic in peace. But some people have so little respect for their hard work and sacrifice, they'd throw our inheritance to those who haven't earned it.

"Exactly," Nott replied smoothly. "Idiots like Dumbledore think that Mudbloods and Half-Breeds have the right to partake in our world, when they've done nothing to help build it."

Snape was hardly listening by the time the three Slytherins had reached the door to the Common Room. All his energy was focused on how he was going to climb through the portrait hole. Potter's assault had done irreversible damage to the structural integrity of his upper leg and pelvic muscles. Tendons and ligaments had been ripped loose. His gait was permanently deformed by hundreds of microscopic fractures in his hipbone. Severus could hardly lift his left knee halfway to waist-level.

It took him nearly five minutes to drag himself through the portrait hole, and collapse on the emerald green carpet. Unfortunately, Rosier and Nott were still talking, and Mulciber had now joined them.

"—You let scum like Mary MacDonald into our community, and see what a pigsty it'll become in a few years."

"Yeah," Snape responded mechanically. "Anyways, I'm tired and my arse is killing me. I'm going to bed." Before anyone could further question his commitment to the Death Eater cause, Snape collapsed on his bed and pulled the curtains shut.

As the lights flickered out and his dormmates all fell silent, Snape buried his face into his pillow and cursed his rotten luck. Indeed, he was surrounded by enemies. Hostile Gryffindors hunted him by day, and hostile Slytherins hunted him by night. If Bellatrix Black found out about his promise to Lily, about his renouncing the Dark Arts… he would rather endure another ten rounds of Potter and Black.

 **More to come!**


	10. Long Summer Days

**Some Reviewer:** **You make some excellent points! The worst memories for Snape were probably those in which he was not only in excruciating pain, but also in which he was humiliated in front of a crowd.**

 **I also love how you pointed out that Sirius hasn't shown as much remorse as James has. I didn't make it that way intentionally, but since you brought it up… it's actually somewhat consistent with canon. Even though James is the ringleader of the group, it seems like Sirius was the meanest one.**

 **Ganymede:** **Those are some really good insights as well! Perhaps the Dementors were just a "phase," since emotional highs don't tend to last forever. It is indeed VERY hard for people to change the way they are. Unfortunately, once the novelty of turning a new leaf wears off, James and Sirius might relapse back to their old ways (in canon, nearly killing Snape with the werewolf prank didn't stop them from later removing his underwear—or at least attempting to—in Snape's Worst Memory).**

 **Thank you to everyone who is reading and enjoying the story! I hope this chapter provides some fodder for good discussion as well.**

 **Chapter 10:**

The month of June finally and mercifully came to an end, signifying the completion of a torturous year that Severus had been dying to escape. There was a ubiquitous agreement among Hogwarts students that the fifth year was the worst—due to the sheer terror and trepidation of the OWL Exams. At the tender age of sixteen, students must leave the sheltered world of parents and teachers, and enter into a new arena of challenge and adversity in which a few missteps could irreversibly alter their destinies.

But from Snape's point of view, the OWLs were the only thing that had gone right for him over the past nine months. Everything else had been a disaster.

In the first two months of the term, Severus had been beaten, choked, and hexed into the Hospital Wing nearly a dozen times. He endured broken bones, bloodied noses, knocked-out teeth, and hundreds of cuts and bruises. He also missed every single Hogsmeade trip, because his pocket money was constantly being stolen. Time and time again, Severus would find himself waking up on the corridor floor with a very sympathetic (and indignant) Lily, a mysterious headache, and empty pockets.

The week after Christmas, housemate Victor Crabbe pilfered his Transfiguration Essay and submitted it as his own. Showing up to class empty-handed had earned Severus a detention and a harsh rebuke. When word got out, Snape became a perpetual target for homework thieves. But his troubles would not end there. Early in March, the hapless Slytherin came within inches of being ripped apart by a werewolf. Professor Dumbledore had promptly forced Severus into secrecy regarding Remus Lupin's condition—under the threat of expulsion.

Potter and Black had not been forced into silence. They had not been forbidden to tell their side of the story. Soon the entire school was abuzz with rumors of Potter's glorious act of heroism towards the greasy wretch that everyone hated. But Severus was not permitted to utter one word in his own defense.

Dumbledore's partiality had only armed Potter and Black with further ammunition. Emboldened by knowledge that the truth would always be distorted in their favor, that only their voice would be heard, the two bullies became bolder than ever. They wasted no time in stripping Severus naked in front of the entire Hogwarts community… proudly displaying his ugly, scrawny body and dirty undergarments to hundreds of mocking eyes. Then came the vicious caning that had left him permanently maimed. Perhaps the werewolf would have showed more mercy.

Finally, his fellow Slytherins had not failed to notice his declining interest in the Dark Arts. It was only a matter of time before they uncovered the truth and delivered him straight into the wrath of Bellatrix Black.

* * *

But summer had come, and Snape's troubles at Hogwarts were the furthest thing from his mind. For the next three months, his only connection to the Magical World would be Lily Evans. That was all Severus ever wanted. At the moment, the two friends were seated together on the soft grass in the neighborhood park, where they had first met all those years ago.

Lily broke the silence. "Remember when we used to go on the swings?"

Severus cracked a rare smile. "Those were the good times." With a grunt, he hoisted his weight onto the right side, and re-applied the Cushioning Charm to his left buttock.

"You never realize you were in the _good old days_ , until they've passed." Lily reached into her purse to retrieve a small photo album. Together, they spent the next few minutes thumbing through page after page of their shared childhood, sharing tender memories and nostalgic comments. Soon they arrived at a particularly corny photo of two six year-olds having a pillow fight in Lily's bedroom.

The redhead quirked a mischievous eyebrow at her friend. "Little Sevvie looks so cute in his pink flannel pajamas and bunny slippers."

"I am not cute!" Severus protested in mock indignation. "I never was, and I never will be!"

Lily turned to a picture of two children strapped in a cart, spiraling through the air along a lengthy, loopy, brightly-colored ribbon of roller coaster track. Her green eyes sparkled with delight. "Remember this? Mum took us to the county fair when we were eight. The roller coaster was so much fun! You couldn't stop screaming every time we went upside-down!"

"No I didn't!" he exclaimed. "Severus Snape does NOT scream!"

Lily poked him lightly in the cheek. "Oh yes you did!"

As they continued meandering through various realms of childhood recollections, they soon arrived at a topic that could not be avoided for much longer: Petunia Evans.

Lily suddenly became deeply melancholic. "We haven't spoken in years. Sometimes I feel like I've lost my sister."

"Have you written to her?" Snape queried.

"Yeah," Lily sighed. "But she never writes back. I think she feels that I've pushed her out of my life, because I found something better."

"But you didn't choose Hogwarts. Hogwarts chose you." Snape flicked a dandelion puff into Lily's face. The redhead retaliated by playfully wrestling him to the ground—taking great care to avoid his left hip—and sticking a bright pink flower in his hair.

Severus tucked the flower into the breast pocket of his shirt. "If Petunia knew the direction our world was headed, I think she'd be glad she wasn't allowed to join it."

"What do you mean, Sev?"

The greasy-haired boy cast a wistful glance at a group of Muggle teenagers engaged in some carefree banter on the other side of the park. "We choose our lifelong friends and political affiliation at age eleven. Then we spend the next seven years preparing to die for them. I think Muggles are the lucky ones."

Snape chewed his already unkempt and uneven nails. He spoke slowly and deliberately. "You-Know-Who is gaining power. People are more divided than ever on this so-called Blood Purity thing. I know people who've already gotten the Dark Mark. It'll be impossible to stay neutral for much longer."

"It is scary," Lily agreed. "In a few years, we'll be at war with kids we grew up with. People who went to classes together, played Quidditch together, ate meals together… will be killing each other on the battlefield."

"I don't think I'd lose any sleep if James Potter or Sirius Black got killed," Severus admitted.

At the utterance of this gloomy realization, the duo lapsed into silence. The summer sun glowed brightly in the immaculately cloudless sky, bathing them in warmth. The grassy field was a dazzling kaleidoscope of wildflowers, and the air inundated with a delicate floral fragrance. High overhead, butterflies flitted to and fro. The gentle summer day stood in sharp dissonance with the somber faces of two teenagers who were deeply concerned about the dark and twisted world that would soon become their reality.

"Sometimes I think Quidditch is bad for morale," Lily declared.

"What makes you say that?"

Lily hesitated. Wasn't the answer obvious? Wasn't it a foregone conclusion that in the current political climate, the last thing Hogwarts needed was another source of disunity? Hadn't Severus spent the past five years being relentlessly bullied by Quidditch players and their adoring fans?

Nevertheless, Lily decided to clarify her point. "Quidditch is probably responsible for eighty percent of all the fights that go on in school. And wouldn't you agree that Quidditch players—especially the guys—are some of the most arrogant and obnoxious people we have at Hogwarts?"

"Fair enough. Nobody can disagree with that." Severus dropped his head and stared at the ground, not meeting her eyes. "But maybe Quidditch is necessary. It'll toughen us for when we actually do go to war."

Now Lily was really bemused. "Sev, what are you getting at? I never thought I'd hear you defending Quidditch."

The black-haired boy grimaced slightly, "Lily, there is something I have to tell you. Please don't laugh at me. I know you'll think I'm crazy and you probably won't believe me because it's the weirdest and most ridiculous thing you'd expect me to do… but I have a good reason and if you'll just hear me out, maybe it wouldn't be such a big—"

"Come on, just spit it out! I promise I won't laugh at you."

Severus clenched his fists tightly around two bundles of grass and drew a deep breath. "I'm trying out for the Quidditch Team next year. I borrowed a school broom and have been practicing every day," he blurted.

But Lily didn't laugh. She didn't roll her eyes and berate him at length for such a ridiculous idea. She didn't make a single snide remark. In fact, she seemed genuinely interested.

"Really? That's interesting. Sev, I never knew you liked Quidditch."

"I don't," Snape admitted. "Ever since our first flying lesson, I've hated Quidditch. Do you remember what happened?"

Lily nodded grimly. "Of course I do."

* * *

 _October 14, 1971…_

It was the first flying lesson. Row after row of nervous but excited Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years stood lined up by their brooms. At Madam Hooch's command, they attempted to summon them.

"Up!" In an instant, James Potter's broomstick leapt into his outstretched hand. Mere moments later, Sirius Black's followed suit.

One by one, brooms leapt into the air when called. Before long, only one broom remained stationary in the grass.

Eleven year-old Severus Snape's gaunt, sallow little face was stricken with desperation as his broom refused to move an inch. "Up! Up! Up!"

James giggled derisively behind his back. "Look at Snivelly. Even the broom hates him."

"Maybe they put a Grease-Repelling Charm on the broom." Sirius whispered back. A group of Gryffindor boys burst into laughter as they continued to enjoy Snape's humiliating incompetence.

Soon it was time to fly. Madam Hooch ordered the first-years to line up single-file, and do three laps around the Quidditch pitch. Snape's knees were trembling. What if he was the only one who failed to get off the ground?

At the whistle, Snape kicked off the ground and joined his classmates in circling the stadium. He was by far the slowest flyer and he had a hard time keeping his broom straight, but at least he was staying in the air…

WHAM!

James crashed into him from the right, forcing him to spiral off course and miss a goal post by inches. Severus had barely managed to get his broom under control again, when Sirius charged at him head-on. Snape quickly swerved to avoid getting hit. But the onslaught continued. James and Sirius repeatedly rammed into Severus from all directions, knocking him against the walls and goal posts. Each time, the little Slytherin only barely managed to avoid a devastating injury. But he was getting increasingly flustered, and his stamina and coordination were waning.

Finally, Severus completely lost control of his broom when Sirius dive-bombed him from above. In wild attempt at dodging aside, Severus lost his grip on the handle and tumbled off the broom. He dropped thirty feet onto the earth below, landing with a sickening crunch on one wrist. The greasy-haired boy lay in a heap, paralyzed by the agony of a compound fracture that had splintered the carpal bones into no fewer than a dozen fragments.

"Broken wrist," Madam Hooch mumbled. She half-dragged, half-carried Severus to the Hospital Wing, before exchanging a quick word with the Headmaster.

Soon Professor Dumbledore dropped by the Hospital Wing. Severus bolted upright in bed. "Professor Dumbledore, it was James Potter and Sirius Black again! They made me—"

The Headmaster lifted a hand to silence him. "That will do, Severus."

"But sir, you have to believe me this time! Madam Hooch—"

Dumbledore knelt down to the boy's eye level. "Severus dear, I understand that you feel embarrassed and humiliated by your performance in the Flying Lesson. I understand you are upset that you weren't able to keep up with your classmates today. But do you think it's fair that you take your frustration out on James and Sirius? Does it make sense to blame them for your own embarrassment, instead of simply practicing to get better?"

That was the last time Severus Snape ever petitioned the Headmaster.

* * *

Severus reached for his wand and applied a fresh Cushioning Charm to the patch of grass he was sitting on. "When Potter sees me in the air while he's stuck in the stands, that'll send him a message: That he can't get away with this rubbish. He can chop off my arse and stab it with a basilisk fang, but I'm not letting him ruin Quidditch for me."

He fiddled absently with a blade of grass and chewed his nails. Lily was the only person he would ever express tenderness and vulnerability in front of. She was the only person who'd ever earned the right to see his defenses stripped away and his soul laid bare. For five long years, James Potter and Sirius Black had made his life hell—always relying on their popularity and charisma to insulate them from punishment. Quidditch stars got away with murder.

The way forward was clear. Severus Snape would reclaim his dignity and patch up the broken pieces of his life, by conquering the one thing that had empowered others to bully him for five years.

Lily smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm behind you one hundred percent. I really hope you make the team. But Sev, I hope you're doing this for the right reasons."

 **Chapter 11 is next! We will be back at Hogwarts, and watching Snape try his hand at Quidditch.**


	11. A Man of His Word?

**Back to Hogwarts for Year Six! Hopefully things will get a little better for poor Snape.**

 **Please help me out by answering some questions!**

 **1\. What do you think of my version of Teenage Snape? Do you think his relationship with Lily is realistic, given what we know from canon?**

 **2\. How do you think Snape's attitude towards Harry would differ if Lily hadn't ended their friendship after the underwear incident? Assume Lily and James still end up together, but Lily and Snape continue to have a brother/sister relationship.**

 **Some Reviewer: Let's find out if Snape gets his wish of playing Quidditch for Slytherin!**

 **To the other Guest reviewers: Thank you for your enthusiasm!**

 **Chapter 11:**

"The answer is no, Severus. Absolutely not." Professor Slughorn chugged another bottle of butterbeer. His double chin, which was at least six inches long, jiggled back and forth with every swallow he took.

"But Professor, why am I not allowed to try out for Quidditch? I've done nothing wrong! Why am I being punished?" Snape complained.

The grotesquely obese Potions Master wiped his mouth on his sleeve, before leaning forward to address the skinny teenager seated across his desk. "You aren't being punished, my dear boy. But you were maimed by a very dark and poisonous object. How on earth do you expect to ride a broomstick, when you can barely even walk or sit without pain?"

"The Cushioning Charm! We learned it in our third year." Snape opened another pack of butterbeer, and laid it on the table.

Professor Slughorn loosened his belt, which was already on the verge of snapping, and greedily reached for more butterbeer. "Severus, we cannot call a Time-Out every few minutes just to re-apply the Cushioning Charm to your broom."

"Professor Flitwick can make it last for a whole day!" Snape protested, his face going white with anger. "Sir, _it isn't fair_! I didn't ask for James Potter and Sirius Black to do this to me. I didn't ask to get amputated. If you don't let me play Quidditch, then you're letting them get the last laugh. _You're letting them ruin my life_!" The last sentence exploded from his lips, dripping with resentment and vitriol.

There was sadness and sympathy in the older man's eyes. However, with his face reddening and his lips covered with golden-brown foam, Professor Slughorn continued to insist. "Severus, I'm sorry but it is far too dangerous."

Seeing disappointment and frustration cloud the boy's face, the Slytherin Head of House reached across the table to pat Snape on the hand. His fat, fleshy thumb was almost as thick as the teenager's wrist. "I know how much you want this, my dear. It is every young man's dream to become a Quidditch star. But your injury makes this an impossible dream. With your handicap, the other team will go out of their way to target you."

"Let them try!" Snape declared. "If anyone makes a dirty play against me, I'll break his nose!"

Then his tone softened and his countenance became gentler. "Have another butterbeer, Professor."

"Thank you, my dear boy. This stuff is heavenly! Madame Rosmerta sure knows her drinks!" Professor Slughorn greedily clutched two more bottles of butterbeer in his corpulent fist, and drained them in one sitting. Snape concealed an excited smile behind his hand.

Snape chose his next words carefully. "Professor Slughorn, all I ever wanted was to play Quidditch and be happy. Until I came to Hogwarts, I was the loneliest child ever. From my eleven-year-old point of view, playing Quidditch was the ultimate symbol of being integrated into the Wizarding community. Quidditch creates a bond that transcends all personal and societal differences—and after being an outcast for most of my life, all I want is to partake in this wonderful brotherhood."

"After a traumatic incident in my first flying lesson, I was afraid of getting on a broom. But I'm at peace with it now. I've decided that I will not let my handicap define me, but rather I will let it be my motivation and strength. Professor Slughorn, the odds have been stacked against me from Day One. This is my chance at telling the world that I will not allow bullies and bigots and bureaucrats to exclude me from the Wizarding community's favorite pastime. Won't you let me author this beautiful story of redemption and overcoming adversity?"

Snape wanted to vomit at these disgustingly corny words. It took every ounce of strength and willpower to lay down his Slytherin pride enough to make such a sickening plea. But it was a necessary means to his end. Hopefully Slughorn would be too drunk to remember anything from this conversation.

Severus unpacked another case of butterbeer bottles, which Professor Slughorn tore into ravenously. The obese Potions Master was becoming more inebriated with each passing moment. His speech devolved into a mess of incoherent babbling.

"Sevvie wants to play Quidditch… _hic_ … but… _hic_ … unless Sevvie puts on… _hic_ … fifty pounds of muscle… the Buggers will… _hic_ … break him in half."

 _How dare you? Only Lily gets to call me that!_ Snape fumed silently.

"The _Bludgers_ are equally likely to target anyone, Professor," Severus explained impatiently. "There are second-years on some Quidditch Teams. If they can survive a Bludger, so can I."

"But Sevvie… _hic_ … doesn't like Quidditch. Sevvie… _hic_ … likes Potions." Slughorn's enormously fleshy face grew redder and redder with every passing moment.

 _I'll wring your neck if you call me that awful nickname one more time!_ Severus cursed silently. He handed Slughorn another butterbeer.

"You're right, sir," the greasy-haired boy responded placidly. "In the past, I didn't like Quidditch very much. But now I've started seeing things differently. I would love to try out for the team, and do everything I can to wrest that Quidditch Cup away from Gryffindor."

Snape cracked his knuckles. "Don't worry about my safety, Professor. I hope nobody takes cheap shots at me, but I'll be ready. If anyone takes a swing at me, I'll knock him off his broom!"

Slughorn had become positively giddy, as his eyes bulged with childlike excitement and he spoke in a high-pitched squeal. "Gryffindor… _hic_ … morons! Slytherin… _hic_ … destroy Gryffindor… _hic_ … Sevvie… _hic_ … the Prince of Potions…"

Snape knew he was very near his goal. Soon his permission slip would be signed, and he would not have to sit through this idiocy for much longer. "Thank you for the compliment, Professor. But the Prince of Potions would rather be the King of Quidditch. May I please have permission to try out for Chaser of Slytherin House?"

Slughorn emitted a high-pitched squeal of laughter that was strongly reminiscent of Peeves, before scrawling his signature on the permission slip. With another intoxicated giggle, Slughorn fired a stream of green fireworks out of his wand. The tiny pinpricks of light twisted and spiraled through the air, to form the sentence, "Eat Dung, Gryffindor!"

"Perfect." With a smug grin, Snape pocketed the parchment. The triumphant teen sauntered off to the Quidditch Pitch with high spirits, leaving an extremely inebriated Potions Master in his wake. "How's that for a bit of Slytherin cunning?"

* * *

"Oi! You filthy Half-Blood!" A series of angry footsteps beat across the dark green carpet of the Slytherin Common Room.

Beneath his threadbare and absurdly baggy robes, Snape's fingers closed around his wand. With shaking hands, he looked up from the potion he was brewing. "What?" he growled.

Fellow Slytherin sixth-years Rosier, Wilkes and Mulciber were standing around him, their faces taut with irritation. "I'll tell you what," Wilkes growled. "You've missed another Junior Death Eaters meeting! Where in Merlin's name were you this afternoon?"

"First week of school, and you're already off to a bad start," Rosier informed him pompously. "I've emphasized again and again how important the first meeting is. This is the time to recruit new members and instill our values. We don't need the Half-Butt Prince mucking things up with his tainted blood and lack of commitment!"

"Call me that one more time, and I'll hex your nose off!" Snape dropped a puffer fish eyeball into his potion, and unsheathed his wand.

The three hostile Slytherins slowly backed away, their eyes warily transfixed on his wand. Only when Snape lowered his weapon did they resume their aggressive postures.

"I was practicing Quidditch. I'm trying out for Chaser this year," Snape explained. Not at all untrue, albeit far from telling the entire story.

"Liar," Rosier accused. "Since when did you ever give a damn about Quidditch?"

"I changed my mind," Snape responded curtly. "Now beat it. I don't owe you any further explanation."

His accusers raked over him from head to toe with piercing eyes. But years of hardening himself had made Severus Snape impenetrable to anyone who had no business knowing his thoughts. Only fools were candid about their vulnerabilities. Only idiots allowed their hearts to be an open book. Not even the Sword of Gryffindor could chisel through the barriers erected to shield Snape's innermost being from nosy eyes and unwelcome inquisitors.

"Fine," Mulciber conceded, when the trio failed to detect any lies or subterfuge. "If that's the truth, then we'll be expecting to see you at the Quidditch tryouts."

"Or else Bellatrix will be very curious to know the real reason why you're avoiding us," Wilkes threatened.

* * *

The hours crept by and the common room slowly emptied. Before long, only Snape was left. With a drop of flobberworm mucus, his Pain-Relief Potion was complete. He capped up the translucent orange liquid and stowed the vial into his bag.

With a sigh, Snape tilted his weight onto his right hand, and reapplied the Cushioning Charm to his chair. This was becoming a tremendously irritating routine. He had no idea how he could possibly ride a broomstick in wake of his amputation, but there was no way he would let Potter and Black render him a cripple.

Snape cast a furtive glance over his shoulder to confirm that he was alone. Indeed, not a soul was in sight. Snape silently drew his wand and aimed it at an old pillow. " _Sectumsempra_ ," he whispered. Instantly, the pillow was shredded to an unintelligible mess of string and stuffing.

Then he redirected his wand to a mosquito on a distant wall. One _Sectumsempra_ later, and the mosquito's head and all six legs were cleanly amputated. Amorphous blobs of slimy yellow entrails were splattered about.

Severus packed his belongings and headed for the dorm, congratulating himself for mastering his spell. With _Sectumsempra_ in his repertoire, he felt so much safer and better protected. His housemates were interrogating him more aggressively than ever before, and it was only a matter of time before they worked out the truth. His stomach churned nauseatingly as images of Bellatrix's wrath flashed through his mind. Avery and Mulciber were rather unpleasant, Rosier was cruel, but Bellatrix Lestrange was downright sadistic. _If someone rats me out to that awful woman, I have to be able to defend myself. Heck, I have so many enemies, I must always be vigilant._

But in spite of his pride in mastering the spell, Severus also felt a wave of guilt and self-loathing wash over him. He promised Lily that he would stop fooling around with Dark Magic… and tonight he failed to keep his word.

 **Chapter 12 is next! Will Snape make the Quidditch Team? Will it be everything he hoped it would be?**


	12. Quidditch

**Ganymede:** **Although I don't blame canon Lily for ending her friendship with Snape (he was becoming quite a toxic friend), I was quite indignant in "The Prince's Tale" when she accused Snape of being ungrateful towards James. How can Lily pass that judgment when only half the facts had been told? Heck, Snape wasn't even allowed to tell his side of the story. She did seem very oblivious.**

 **I'm still in deliberation over whether Lily will end up with James or Snape. Even if she ends up with James in the end, I would like for her and Snape to maintain a brother/sister relationship. However, Snape being at peace with James would be really hard.**

 **Help:** **Those are great insights! I really appreciate you taking the time to share your knowledge and expertise. I checked up the "Your Bias is Showing" website, and it's almost scary how relevant each of those 20 points were, and how often we subconsciously do those things!**

 **Now, in the words of James: "Who wants to see Snivelly play Quidditch?"**

 **Chapter 12:**

When Snape awoke the next morning, his head was throbbing, his stomach was churning, and his body felt like a lump of lead. With a grunt, he hoisted himself onto both elbows and massaged his forehead. He felt terrible. Feeling terrible was nothing new to Severus Snape, but this time was different. Right now, his discomfort was not physical but spiritual. It was not the ache of a bruise, the sting of a laceration, or the ire of being publicly humiliated for the millionth time—but rather the profound shame of possessing a rotten and degenerate soul.

Plain and simple, Severus Snape was a coward. He had lied to the only person who'd ever shown him kindness in his pathetic life. On that fateful day in the Hospital Wing, he had pleaded with Lily for forgiveness in calling her that unspeakable word. With a broken heart and bitter tears of remorse, he swore off the Dark Arts forever. Heck, he even told Lily that he would rather die than renege on a promise to her.

But just last night, he had been practicing _Sectumsempra_ under the cover of darkness. _You filthy coward,_ Snape berated himself silently. _Lily could have anyone as her friend. But out of the sheer goodness of her heart, she has chosen this miserable greasy wretch that nobody likes. She has put her Gryffindor reputation on the line for you, and this is how you repay her?_ Snape cursed himself a thousand times over.

After briefly checking to confirm that his roommates were all asleep, Snape quietly retrieved his Potions textbook from under his pillow. He flipped to page 394. There scrawled in the margins of the yellowing parchment, it was written, " _Sectumsempra_ : to be used on enemies."

Snape reached for his wand and cast a wordless _Evanesco_. The writing vanished instantly. He fixed his eyes on the now empty parchment. _Never again, Lily,_ he silently vowed. _My days of fooling around with the Dark Arts are over. I will always keep my word to you, no matter the cost._

* * *

"Are you really going to try out for Quidditch?" Lily asked tentatively. Snape nodded confidently, with a battered and frayed Cleansweep Eleven slung over his shoulder. He was on his way to the Quidditch Pitch, where Chaser tryouts were about to commence. Lily was following him in a last-ditch attempt at changing his mind.

"But Slughorn! He let you do it?" As a long-time member of the Slug Club, the red-haired girl was very familiar with her Potions Master. The extremely obese Slytherin Head of House was a jovial, laid-back man. He loved to laugh and joke around. He wasn't the strict disciplinarian or persistent enforcer of rules that McGonagall was. In fact, his tendency to grant special favors and establish personal relationships with students often bordered on unprofessionalism. But Slughorn certainly would have the common sense not to bend a safety rule for any student—no matter what means of bribery or persuasion was offered.

Snape gave her a quirky little half-grin. "You'd be surprised at what you can do with a little bit of whining, and a lot of butterbeer!"

Lily punched him playfully in the shoulder. "You sneaky little Slytherin!"

Then her demeanor became somber again. "But it'll be really dangerous! With your, um, _condition_ , how can you even ride a broomstick?"

Severus reached into his collar to retrieve a small vial of bright orange potion, which was dangling from a chain around his neck. "Pain Relief Potion. I brewed it myself," he announced proudly.

Lily felt her heart swell with pride at her friend's prodigious talent. What a shame it was that nobody else could see him the way she did! What a shame it was that nobody else could see the hidden genius beneath the shabby exterior!

Unfortunately, it was Quidditch, not potion-making, which served as the traditional means for a boy to attain respect from his peers. Athletic prowess was the established measure of masculine dominance. Severus Snape—sallow-skinned, undersized and underweight, poorly groomed and perpetually dressed in tattered robes—tragically possessed nothing that endeared him at first sight. But he would do anything to prove that he was not weak. He would fight a battle he had no hope of winning, because he refused to surrender quietly. Truly he was an exquisite amalgamation of Gryffindor boldness and Slytherin cunning.

Nevertheless, her concerns remained. "But Severus, people will go out of their way to target you. The Gryffindors will kill you!"

"I won't let them!" Snape declared. "If anyone makes a dirty play against me, I'll punch him in the nose!" His confidence was formidable.

 _You fool,_ Lily berated him silently. _You aren't punching anyone in the nose. You'll break your neck if you even try._ But it was clear that Severus had made up his mind, and all she could do was respect his decision.

"Good luck," Lily gave him a hug and a pat on the back, as Snape rushed to join his fellow contestants. She retreated into an empty classroom, observing him from afar through the tinted windows. Watching her awkward, scrawny, unathletic friend play Quidditch was nerve-wracking.

Lily watched with bated breath and occasional gasps, as Severus grabbed the Quaffle and took flight. He dodged the first Bludger with relative ease. Lily almost swore aloud when the second Bludger missed him by inches, but he managed to duck just in time. _I'm sure he has plenty of practice dodging his father's fists at home,_ she pondered sadly. Somehow, miraculously, the dark-haired boy had not lost possession of the Quaffle. He was handling the dilapidated old school broom surprisingly well, albeit without one-tenth the talent James Potter possessed.

The redhead let out a silent cheer three minutes later, when Snape faked out the Keeper and lobbed the Quaffle through the unguarded middle hoop. Not long after, he replicated a similar move. The Keeper shot at Snape with excessive single-mindedness and aggression, allowing him to dip aside and go for an uncontested goal.

Lily observed that his playing style very closely mirrored his person. There was nothing elegant about his movements. Severus Snape was one to value functionality over flashiness. He played a solid fundamental game, devoid of any acrobatics or showiness, only doing what was necessary to get the job done.

Thirty heart-stopping minutes later, the whistle sounded from afar. Lily smiled to herself. She knew that Severus had made it.

* * *

James threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You've got to be kidding! _Snape_ made the team?" His shrieks of mirth reverberated loudly through the high ceilings and voluminous rafters of the Common Room. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team milled about, eager to partake in the latest morsel of juicy gossip to befall their favorite victim.

Sirius doubled over. "Snivelly playing Quidditch? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" The rest of the Gryffindors shared a hearty laugh as they dwelled fondly on memories of Snape's comical ineptitude in the air. Indeed, no one could remember a single incidence of Severus riding a broomstick, which hadn't culminated in a complete and utter disaster.

"He won't last five minutes," James assessed solemnly. "He's got the strength and athleticism of the average first-year girl. One Bludger and he'll be in the Hospital Wing until Christmas."

Lily glared at her housemates. "I thought you weren't going to bully Severus anymore!"

James calmed down. "We're not," he assured her. "But Lily, you can't blame us for telling it like it is. Snape is one of the worst fliers I've ever seen. This isn't bullying. It's normal Quidditch trash talk."

"Yeah, even the teachers think it's hilarious that he's on the team," Sirius defended his friend.

Lily's green eyes flashed indignantly. "I watched Severus at the tryouts— _he's not that bad_! Okay, maybe he's a little hesitant to take sharp turns and dives, and maybe he needs to put more muscle into his throws, and maybe he takes a little too long in deciding which hoop to go for—

"In other words, he's terrible," James concluded. A few other Gryffindor players chuckled.

"But he's fast and aims really well!" Lily insisted. "You haven't seen him fly since our second year. He's been practicing all summer and has gotten much better!"

From the other end of the Common Room, Keeper Cameron McLaggen emitted a pretentious snort. "You've got to be kidding me, Evans. Snivelly ought to stick with his girly little chemistry set and leave Quidditch to the real men. I can't wait to see the bastard try and score on me. I'll knock the little sissy off his broom so hard, they'll have to chop off the other half of his arse."

Lily rolled her eyes. How she hated that McLaggen bloke! He was even more arrogant as James Potter! Gryffindor's Keeper stood six feet four inches tall and his shoulders were broader than a troll's. The veins and muscles ran the length of his chiseled arms like knotted cords. But he was also as dense as a troll. The stupid narcissist! Did Dementors suck out his brains?

"Cheap shot, McLaggen," James snapped. At the clever reference to his assault against the greasy little Slytherin, James became oddly contrite. "We're talking Quidditch here. No need to get personal."

"Oh, don't be getting all self-righteous with me, Potter!" The muscle-bound Keeper retorted.

"We didn't know it was Venomous Tentacula," James hissed furiously. "Sirius and I didn't mean to hurt him; we just wanted to mess around!" The disgraced Quidditch phenom was blushing redder than the carpets that lined the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Just messing around?" Lily shrieked indignantly. "Stripping someone naked and nearly killing him is _just messing around_? You make me sick!" The fiery redhead spun on her heels and stomped towards the girls' dorm.

"Evans, wait!" James tripped over the hem of his robe as he raced to intercept her in the staircase.

Lily turned to face him, her countenance marred with disbelief and disgust. "James Potter, you make me sick! Severus has been permanently disfigured by your little joke. These past five years, he's spent more time in the Hospital Wing than in his own dorm, all because of you and Sirius! How can you keep picking on him after all that's happened? Are you really this dense? Have you no shame at all?"

James grimaced awkwardly. Though he had sworn off bullying Snape, he wasn't about to drop to his knees in contrition and repentance. "Lily, this isn't bullying. We're simply telling the truth about his Quidditch skills. I would say the same things about anyone who was this terrible on a broomstick. It's nothing personal."

"Yeah?" Lily challenged. "And can you guarantee that it won't get personal when we play Slytherin later this month?"

Out of instinct, James rumpled his hair, restoring it to the windswept look that he loved. "I can guarantee that _I_ won't make it personal. But as for the rest of the Team, well… that's up to them."

 **Chapter 13 will see our first Quidditch match, Slytherin vs Gryffindor! How will Snape do?**


	13. Snivelly is Our King

**Questions:** **Do you buy into James' argument that he and Sirius weren't really bullying Snape in Chapter 12? Were their comments merely "locker room talk?" - e.g. just teenage boys trash-talking over sports?**

 **Also, did I make Snape a little too whiny in Chapter 11, when he was talking to Slughorn? I can't imagine canon Severus being whiny.**

 **To ganymede, Some Reviewer, Potterhead, and all other guest reviewers: Thank you for your continued feedback and support! It really means so much to me that people are reading and enjoying :)**

 **Now, time for some Snape playing Quidditch!**

 **Chapter 13:**

At the crack of dawn, a faint orange light began to rise over the Eastern horizon. Streaks of pink slowly propagated themselves across the indigo sky, bathing the empty Quidditch pitch in a gentle glow. But the staidness would not remain for long. The big day had arrived.

Snape rolled out of bed and pulled a set of green robes over his greasy black hair. He eyed his reflection in the mirror, gawking at the foreign apparition. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he'd one day be donning these robes. _I'm actually playing Quidditch,_ he whispered numbly to himself. _This is really happening._

Severus Snape was going to play Quidditch. There was a time when anyone making that statement would've earned themselves a dose of Veritaserum at best, or a visit to St. Mungo's at worst. But as of last week, this insane implausibility had come true. And in a few hours, the impact and ramifications of this absurd new reality would become clear.

Taking care not to disturb his dormmates, Snape finished getting dressed and crept out the door. In no mood for breakfast, he slithered down one corridor after another, before taking residence in the empty Transfiguration classroom.

He flicked his wand, and three goal posts took form on the opposite end of the deserted room. Then he transfigured a piece of chalk into a Quaffle. Severus stood for a few minutes, shifting the Quaffle back and forth between both hands, spinning it through the air and catching it, trying to acclimate himself to its feel. Soon his fingers became at ease with the ridged leathery texture.

Nodding in satisfaction, the greasy-haired teen charmed a chair to intermittently float in front of the hoops, simulating a Keeper. _Perfect_. Severus downed three drops of his Pain Relief Potion, before mounting the battered old Cleansweep and rising a few feet. Taking aim, he drew back his right arm and released the Quaffle.

The projectile soared through the air in a graceful stream, on path to thread the middle hoop, when the chair jumped up and broke its trajectory. The Quaffle was knocked under a table. " _Accio_ ," Severus muttered. He seized the red leathery ball out of midair and prepared to take another shot. "Gotta be quicker than last time."

* * *

Half an hour and many successful tosses later, Severus dismounted and vanished away the interim Quidditch pitch with a sweep of his wand. Now was the time for mental training. The introspective Slytherin reached into his sleeve for a piece of parchment. Seven key reminders for maintaining his sanity and framing the match in proper perspective. His dark eyes flitted over each item on the list.

"One," he moved his lips. "I must not get injured. If I do, fake it at all costs. Otherwise Slughorn might revoke permission." _It's ironic how the fat slug thinks I'm not cut out for Quidditch, when he'd need ten broomsticks to even get off the ground._ Severus chuckled at his own cleverness.

"Two. Expect a rough game. People are still blaming me for getting Potter banned from Quidditch." Snape felt his fists clench. Did the world revolve around Potter? Did Potter have a monopoly over every single Quidditch-related discussion in the entire school? Choking back the urge to cast a Reductor Curse and blast a nearby table into smithereens, Snape turned his attention to the third point—which served a very timely reminder.

"Three. Never let anyone see that they've gotten into my head. Only weak-minded idiots make their emotions visible."

Item Four steered the narrative into an uncomfortable but imperative topic. Severus flipped over the parchment and continued to read his own writing.

"Four. Stand by my ultimatum: If anyone tries to play dirty, I'll fight him. If anyone hits me, I'll hit him back twice as hard." Severus knew he had zero chance of winning a fistfight. Anyone on the Gryffindor Team could break him in half with a single punch, but this was a matter of principle. He wouldn't take shit from anyone.

Item Five also made his blood boil. "I've been stripped naked in front of the entire school before," Snape muttered. "And in our fourth-year Herbology class. Nothing that happens today can be worse than that."

The next reminder was more encouraging. "Six: I am playing Quidditch while Potter is stuck in the stands. That's already a victory for me." Severus found himself indulging in fantasies of throwing Potter's precious broomstick into the Whomping Willow. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, relishing in these glorious imaginations.

When he opened his eyes again, only one final point remained to be addressed. But a loud crash and a stream of rambunctious voices interrupted his musings. Severus quickly stuffed the parchment back into his sleeve.

The door burst open and a group of people wearing red robes barged through with aggressive faces and threatening postures. It was the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and quite frankly, Severus wasn't surprised. He whipped out his wand. "Back off. All of you."

The Gryffindors slowly retreated into the doorway. Snape gingerly lowered his wand.

Chaser Orville Wood cleared his throat. "I must say, Snape, your timing is rather curious. You've never given a damn about Quidditch before. But now that Potter is gone, you suddenly decide to start playing?"

Severus gave a nonchalant shrug, and began tossing his transfigured Quaffle up and down. "It may have escaped your notice, but not everything is about Potter."

Keeper Cameron McLaggen stomped forward, his massive arms hanging by his side, giving him an uncanny resemblance to a blond gorilla. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on."

Snape tried to twirl the Quaffle on his index finger. "If it did, you'd never figure anything out."

McLaggen clenched his fists into two vein-knotted, hairy hams. He made a furious move towards the snarky Slytherin. "Why you little—"

"Oh no you don't!" A shimmering silver paraboloid burst out of Snape's wand, repelling his would-be assailant. His Shield Charm was so powerful, McLaggen was thrown back against the wall. Snape's face was a mask of stone as he calmly tucked his wand back into the baggy green robe.

The Gryffindor leapt to his feet. "I've got you figured out, Snivellus. You got Potter kicked off the team 'cuz you're scared to go up against him. Anyone with half a brain—

"Not you, in other words." Snape was thoroughly enjoying himself.

" _Anyone with half a brain knows Potter would wipe the floor with you_!" McLaggen's belligerent face flushed redder than his robes, and his chest heaved from all his shouting. "That's why you got him banned! You wouldn't dare show your face unless Potter was out of the way! He'd rip your arse into a million slimy pieces! Oh wait, he already did."

Severus continued playing around with the Quaffle, completely unperturbed. "You must have a very sad life if Potter means this much to you." He gave a loud, exaggerated yawn. "Is he your boyfriend?"

The Gryffindors fell silent. Snape wasn't rising to their bait, and their repertoire of taunts was running empty. As they turned to leave, Wood had one final threat. "Just you wait, Snivellus. After today's match, you're gonna curse the day you thought you could play Quidditch!"

"A likely story." With a cavalier flick of his wrist, Severus fired a wordless Tripping Jinx at the retreating Gryffindors.

Soon he was alone again. The cheeky Slytherin reached back into his sleeve to withdraw the slip of parchment he'd been reading earlier. A smile crossed his gaunt, sallow face as he skimmed over the final item on the list.

"Seven: Remember that Lily will be watching."

* * *

Commentator Larry Jordan cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season: Slytherin versus Gryffindor!" A deafening cheer reverberated throughout the stands. The stadium was demarcated into red and gold on the right, and green and silver on the left. A sporadic dusting of blue, yellow, brown or black apparel was dispersed throughout the sea of Gryffindor and Slytherin colors. Apparently there were some students naïve enough to think they could stay neutral.

Madam Hooch led both teams onto the fields, with a box clutched in her arms and a whistle in her tightly pursed lips. "Captains shake hands!" With jaws clenched and eyes full of fire, Michael Flint and Orville Wood attempted to crush each other's hands.

On the count of three, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and four balls catapulted into the air. The crowd screamed in delight.

"Regulus Black of Slytherin takes the Quaffle. He dodges left… and right… come on Angela, take it from him! Whew, nice Bludger by Gideon Prewitt. Black drops the Quaffle, picked up by Johnson."

"She rounds the corner like a bolt of lightning. The defense collapses, leaving a wide-open pass to Orville Wood. Come on Angela, he's clear— _oh no_! Pass intercepted by Severus Snape of Slytherin…"

Down in the Gryffindor crowd, Lily jumped to her feet. "Yes!" Instantly, she was met with an onslaught of dirty looks from the other Sixth-year Gryffindor girls.

Mary MacDonald and Alice Cadwallader raised their eyebrows at her. "Lily, why are you rooting for Slytherin?"

"I'm not!" Lily defended herself. "Of course I want Gryffindor to win! But Sev really deserves a break. He's shown so much courage in even daring to get on a broom."

Mary shook her head in disbelief. "I will never understand what you see in Severus Snape. The greasy, slimy little…"

The commentator's magnified voice continued to boom through the stadium. "Severus Snape making his debut as Chaser. I think we're all a little astounded to see him on a broom, after last year's little mishap involving a pair of underpants and some Venomous Tentacula." The Gryffindor crowd roared with laughter. James squirmed in his seat and lowered his crimson face into both hands.

Professor McGonagall cut in sharply. "Jordan, would you mind sticking to the match? This is a Quidditch game, not a tabloid magazine!"

"My bad, Professor. Just providing some context in what is sure to be a thrilling underdog story."

McGonagall's voice became increasingly irritated. "Jordan, we're not here to discuss anyone's personal life! Get on with the commentary!"

Severus ignored the remarks. After all, blocking out unwanted noise was his specialty. But at this moment, the Gryffindor Beaters aimed both Bludgers at him. Severus was forced to drop the Quaffle in order to avoid getting hit. Intermittent cries of, "Snivelly sucks!" arose from the Gryffindor crowd.

"Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle. Wood streaking up the middle. He jukes past one defender… and another… it's just the Keeper now… HE SCORES! TEN-ZERO GRYFFINDOR!" The red-and-gold conglomerate cheered loudly.

"Slytherin back in possession. Pucey throws it ahead to Snape."

Severus dodged pass the Gryffindor Chasers, who were playing an extremely physical game. They aggressively dive-bombed him from all directions. But Severus avoided them all. This was no different from dodging a hex or dodging his father's (or Potter's and Black's) fists.

A smatter of jeers began to rise. But Severus was unperturbed. He was well aware that his flying wasn't graceful or smooth. His broom dipped up and down slightly as he flew. His turns were also jerky and sporadic, and he was failing to maintain a constant cruising speed. But it was enough to keep him in the air. Severus also lacked the coordination to grip the Quaffle in one hand, so he clutched it awkwardly against his stomach. Steering the broom with one hand proved to be erratic at best.

"Snape has shaken off his defenders. His form is awfully sloppy, but seems to be working. He's taking on the Keeper. Now's his chance to prove he wasn't given a spot on the team out of pity."

"Jordan! Enough!"

"Sorry, Professor. Snape is squaring up against Cameron McLaggen. Gutsy move, Sniv! McLaggen weighs about three times as much as you. He's going for it! He's—"

A cry of rage exploded from the Slytherin crowd. Rather than going for the Quaffle, McLaggen grabbed Snape by the arm in a viselike shoulder lock. He jerked and twisted about vigorously, clearly attempting to dislocate Snape's shoulder and drag him off the broom. Severus rolled over and unhooked his right leg from the broom. He desperately tried to kick McLaggen in the face, but had difficulty controlling his movements. The two combatants became a whirling typhoon of red and green robes, as they wrangled for position.

Madam Hooch furiously blew her whistle. "Penalty to Slytherin! Disgusting show of unsportsmanlike conduct by the Gryffindor Keeper!"

Severus noticed—with a queasy spasm in his gut—that none of his teammates had come to his defense. But he dismissed these sentiments quickly. There was no shame in fighting his own battles. The greasy-haired Slytherin clambered back onto his broom to take the penalty shot. But his arm was still aching from the attempted dislocation, so he missed by several feet. The Gryffindor crowd began to sing.

 _"Snivelly cannot score a thing,  
He cannot hit a single ring,  
That's why Gryffindors all sing,  
Snivelly is our King!"_

 _"Snivelly's uglier than sin,  
He never gets the Quaffle in,  
Snivelly will make sure we win,  
Snivelly is our King!"_

Jordan's commentary continued. "Gryffindor takes the Quaffle. Allison Spinnet passes to Angela Johnson. She shoots, she—NOOOO!

Slytherin Keeper Michael Flint saved the goal. He tossed the Quaffle to Chaser Aidan Pucey, but Wood promptly knocked it from his hands. Ten feet below, Snape picked up the loose ball.

The moment Severus brushed his fingertips against the leathery red surface, the entire Gryffindor Team pelted in his direction. Everyone was trying to knock him off him out of the air. Snape flipped the Quaffle through a gap in the sea of red robes surrounding him. The ball was caught by a wide-open Regulus Black, who scored to tie the game.

The same maneuver was repeated several more times. The moment Severus touched the Quaffle, the entire Gryffindor Team charged to unseat him. A Beater's Bat whooshed over his head by less than an inch, and a fist skimmed past his nose. Unfortunately, this strategy left the other Slytherin Chasers completely unattended. Soon Slytherin led by three goals, and Severus had tallied three assists.

The commentator's voice droned on. "Slytherin is making prolific use of the Snape-As-A-Diversion tactic. Which is rather clever, if you ask me. He doesn't seem to be good for much else." Jordan sneaked a look at Professor McGonagall out the corner of his eye. The Transfiguration teacher was wringing her hands, and her lips were pressed in a tight line. But she must have decided that he hadn't fully crossed the line between Quidditch commentary and personal attacks—so Jordan was allowed to continue.

"Gryffindor back in possession. Spinnet with the Quaffle…" Jordan's comments began drifting dubiously away from Quidditch, and into the realm of anti-Snape rhetoric.

McGonagall snatched the microphone from him. "Eighty-forty Slytherin!"

Jordan did a double-take. "Yes, Slytherin up by four goals. Regulus Black streaking up the pitch. Punch him in the face, Wood! Just kidding, Professor. Just kidding! Black passes to Aidan Pucey. He swerves past the defender. McLaggen rushes him, but overshoots! Pucey passes it to a wide-open Snape. Turn around, Cameron! Quick! Too late! The Greasy Gunslinger goes for the goal!"

Severus had an easy shot at the goal. But pain and fatigue were starting to settle in, and his upper left leg began to cramp. Besides, he was still an inexperienced flier in spite of all his recent practice. His shot bounced off the rim, and was met with a deafening chorus of jeers. The Gryffindors resumed their singing.

 _"Snivelly is a piece of trash,  
He cannot catch a single pass.  
Snivelly's arse is getting thrashed,  
Snivelly is our King!"_

 _"Snivelly's hair is full of rot,  
He always lets the Quaffle drop,  
Snivelly cannot make a shot,  
Snivelly is our King!"_

A whistle sounded. The game was temporarily halted as Madam Hooch rushed to separate two players engaged in a shoving match. Severus took the opportunity to quickly take another dose of his Pain-Relief Potion, which still hung in a little vial around his neck. Instantly the pain and cramping was relieved, and he was ready to play again.

The game resumed with another whistle. Slytherin was in possession. Again, Snape had picked up a loose Quaffle that dropped out from a mass of tangled, jostling bodies. A series of chants rose from the Gryffindor side of the stadium.

"Snivelly sucks! Snivelly sucks! Snivelly sucks! Snivelly sucks!"

Wood rammed Snape in a vicious line-drive, crushing the smaller Slytherin against a goal post. When Severus recovered, he raced after Wood and punched him in the head from behind.

Madam Hooch's whistle erupted in two short bursts. "Penalty to Gryffindor for unnecessary contact against their Chaser! And Penalty to Slytherin for unprovoked attack on their Chaser!"

Wood shot first and scored on the right hoop. Eighty-fifty.

Now it was Slytherin's turn to take their penalty shot. As Snape seized the Quaffle, more singing broke out.

 _"Snivelly cannot score a thing,  
He cannot hit a single ring,  
That's why Gryffindors all sing,  
Snivelly is our King!"_

 _"Snivelly's uglier than sin,  
He never gets the Quaffle in,  
Snivelly will make sure we win,  
Snivelly is our King!"_

As he prepared to let the Quaffle fly, Snape focused his thoughts on Lily. Her eager, smiling face and vibrant green eyes shone as a beacon amidst the crimson sea of hostile Gryffindors. He took aim and fired at the right hoop. McLaggen dived wildly, and the Quaffle soared between his outstretched arms. Ninety-fifty Slytherin!

 _Yes!_ Severus could not hold back few celebratory loop-the-loops. He caught Lily's eye in the crowd below, and gave her a thumbs-up. But unfortunately, he remained distracted for a moment too long…

WHAM! A Bludger smashed into his left hip, knocking him clean out of the air.

A blinding, sickening pain… a flash of light… distant screams… a ghostly chorus of "Snivelly is Our King…" and the sensation of falling down a long tunnel with all the air squeezed from his lungs.

 **If Snape were a Quidditch player, his nickname would TOTALLY be the Greasy Gunslinger**


	14. Unforgivable

**Some Reviewer:** **I'm glad you like the story! Yes indeed, we can see that James is trying to stop bullying Snape, but old habits are hard to shake. Especially when it comes to Quidditch, since trash-talking goes so naturally with guys and sports.**

 **Ganymede:** **It's a good thing Severus got to score 1 goal before getting knocked out of the game :)** **. He also got to assist on 3 other goals, since the Gryffindors were so busy ganging up on him, they ignored the rest of the Slytherin team. But all in all, this match was a complete disaster for poor Snivelly.**

 **You bring up a good point about James! He certainly has shown remorse & has toned down his bullying significantly, but he still has some ways to go. **

**Chapter 14:**

When Snape finally awoke and rejoined the land of the sentient and living, his eyes were greeted with a most familiar sight. For perhaps the hundredth time in his Hogwarts career, he was in the Hospital Wing. _Might as well put my name on one of these beds,_ he thought miserably. _Heck, maybe I should just live here permanently._

"Sev, you're awake!" Lily's emerald orbs shone with concern. The redhead was perched in her usual chair by his bedside. Over the years she had spent many nights in this same chair, keeping vigil over her bruised, battered, beleaguered friend. Lily reached out to clasp his trembling hands, allowing her warmth to flow into the bony, ice-cold fingers. "Thank goodness, I thought we lost you!"

The greasy-haired Slytherin cracked a grim smile. "Who's _we_? I think the rest of the school is pretty bummed that I'm alive." Despite his incapacitated condition, Severus managed to display his trademark humor. The joke was not without deeper sentiments, however. He hadn't failed to notice that no one else had come to visit him.

"Don't say that!" Lily playfully punched him in the shoulder, eliciting a hiss of pain. She pulled back and issued a profuse stream of apologies. "When you fell off the broom, I was so scared I could hardly look…" Her voice trailed off.

With his left hip and backside aching worse than ever, Severus shifted his weight to the right. "How did I survive?"

Lily bit her lip. "Dumbledore. _Arresto momentum_. He broke your fall when you were about three feet from the ground."

At these words, Severus realized, with another pang of heartbreak hidden deep beneath that bulletproof façade of Slytherin invulnerability, that none of his teammates had bothered to catch him. But he wouldn't be caught dead admitting that. He fiddled absently with the bedsheets. "What happened with the match?"

In his already distressed condition, Lily hated to be the bearer of further bad news. But he deserved an honest answer. "Gryffindor won," she confessed. "Two hundred ninety to one hundred forty."

Snape couldn't help himself. The ghost of a smirk fluttered across his face. "It looks like Potter's arrogance was all for nothing. Clearly Gryffindor can win without him." Some quick mental calculations also indicated that the match had been tied before Gryffindor caught the Snitch. When Severus fell off his broom, Slytherin was leading by four goals. Perhaps he wasn't so useless after all.

Lily scooted over to sit next to him on the mattress. "You know, Sev, that horrible song wasn't Potter's idea."

Snape's face was a mask of pain and resentment. "Yeah, but who gave me that nickname? Who's been ragging on my hair for the past five years? Where do you think the part about _Snivelly's arse getting thrashed_ came from? Where did all those Venomous Tentacula jokes come from? Potter may not have written that song, but he sure inspired it."

Severus brushed away an angry tear. "I practically live in the Hospital Wing because of Potter and Black! They've broken every bone in my body, beat me into a pulp, stolen my things, blew up my Potions, and stripped me naked in front of everyone! Potter may be banned from Quidditch for the rest of his time at school, but because of him _I'm banned for life_! There's no way in hell Slughorn ever lets me back on a broom! Honestly, is there _anything_ that Potter and Black haven't ruined for me?"

The indignant Slytherin threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With fumbling hands, he took her by the shoulders. "I'm going to get them back," he croaked. "Lily, please… let me do this. It's only fair." His eyes were fraught and desperate as they locked into hers, as if pleading for approval… pleading for understanding… pleading for solidarity… pleading for her to sympathize and agree that he was not the aggressor, but simply a victim who was forced to take things into his own hands after being denied justice for far too long.

Pleading for her to be on his side, because he knew that no one else would ever be.

Lily smiled and brushed back a lock of greasy black hair, for a better look at his face. "Give 'em hell, Sev. But remember, no Dark Magic."

He shook her hand and nodded in agreement. "No Dark Magic."

* * *

Severus crouched behind a suit of armor lining the corridor, and aimed his wand discreetly at the Marauders, who were on their way to Charms. Five years of misery and rage were pounding in his veins. How he would've loved to have them at his mercy… those awful boys who had made his life hell from the moment they arrived at Hogwarts! How he yearned to deliver a well-earned _Sectumsempra_ , and ruin Potter's chances of ever catching another Snitch!

But Severus remembered his promise to Lily. No more Dark Magic. _Sectumsempra_ must be forever relegated to the archives of the dark and deranged fantasies that he would never again act upon. Lily's friendship and trust was worth all the gold in the world, so his retribution must be limited to ordinary hexes.

" _Diffindo_!" The seat of James' pants split open. A thin line of crimson appeared on the seat of his boxers, indicating a shallow laceration. _Serves you right, you bloody bastard!_ The resentful Slytherin fumed, rubbing at the apple-sized chunk of flesh that had been amputated from his own buttock. Severus readied himself for a full blown four-on-one battle, but it never came. Potter flinched at the contact and instinctively drew his own wand. But as his gaze lingered on the suit of armor behind which Snape was hiding, the fight vanished from Potter's eyes and was replaced by a flicker of contrition. James slowly tucked his wand away.

Potter's lack of retaliation caught Severus off guard. But he deserved much worse, so Snape wasn't about to credit him for taking the higher road. Nor would he perseverate for any longer on the fact. " _Incendio_!" Sirius' homework was burned to a crisp. " _Flipendo_!" Peter Pettigrew went tumbling down a staircase. But the Gryffindors continued to pay him no attention.

Unfortunately, someone else was paying very close attention.

"You're pathetic, Snape." Mulciber's condescending voice suddenly rose from behind him. "Allow me."

Before Severus could react to these words, Mulciber grabbed the wand from his outstretched hand, and jabbed it down the hallway towards an oblivious Mary MacDonald.

" _CRUCIO_!"

Without a trace of emotion... without the slightest acknowledgement of the bloodcurdling shrieks that were now violently reverberating throughout the entire castle, Mulciber's face was a sociopathic veneer of calmness. He shoved Snape's wand back into his hand. "There you go. That's how a _real_ Death Eater gets it done."

The air was filled with earsplitting screams. Mary MacDonald was on the floor, twitching uncontrollably. She clawed wildly at her face, nearly scratching her own eyes out. Long bloody gashes took residence on her cheeks. Her blonde pigtails became disheveled as convulsing hands involuntarily flew to her head, and began tearing out large clumps of hair. Beads of sweat saturated her brow and blood dribbled down her chin, as her teeth began shredding her tongue. Her throat was raw from screaming, begging for the torture to end.

Through the hideous paroxysms ravaging every inch of her body, the hapless girl seemed completely unaware that she was mutilating herself. Severus could hear—and almost see—jolts of electricity crackling through Mary's body, tearing apart every nerve and splitting every bone cleanly to its marrow.

Severus waved his wand jerkily at Mary's convulsing form, desperately trying to lift the curse. Though he had read plenty of books on the Cruciatus Curse, he'd never witnessed it in action. The results were horrifying beyond his wildest imaginations. He uttered the countercurse a hundred times over. But unfortunately, Severus was so frazzled, he could not summon the emotional focus and conviction to lift the curse.

The exertion was physically draining him. With soreness building in his wand arm and frustration mounting, his attempts at the countercurse became increasingly pitiful and ineffective.

"What's going on here?"

It was Lily Evans. Her gaze drifted back and forth from Mary, now screaming louder than ever and on the verge of tearing open her own throat, to Severus, who was standing over her prostrate figure with his wand out. Mulciber was long gone. Lily's emerald eyes filled with shock and disbelief as she arrived at the only logical conclusion.

Lily turned white as she marched forward and grabbed Severus by the neck. She shook him back and forth with such vigor, he could hardly breathe. In her stupor, she choked and sputtered, unable to string together a single coherent sentence.

"Severus Tobias Snape, what the bloody _f—k_ do you think you're doing?"

 **Uh oh… middle name. What's going to happen to poor Snape next?**


	15. Misunderstanding

**Ganymede:** **Good point! It sure seems that way, doesn't it?**

 **Warning: Lily is a little OOC in this chapter, but I think we should cut her some slack for Temporary Insanity, after witnessing something extremely disturbing and traumatic in the previous chapter.**

 **Severus might be a little OOC as well, but Lily has always been his soft spot :)**

 **Chapter 15:**

Severus gasped and choked for air as he desperately tried to pry Lily's hands from around his throat. Finger-shaped bruises were beginning to appear on both sides of his thyroid. "Lily…" he managed to wheeze. "This isn't what it appears to be."

"I TRUSTED YOU!" The redhead shouted. Her cries mingled with Mary MacDonald's in a dissonance chorus of otherworldly shrieks. "I gave you another chance, and you lied to me!"

"It wasn't me!" Severus protested. "I didn't do anything!"

Lily placed both hands on her hips. "So according to you, Mary MacDonald dropped to the ground on her own accord?"

"It was Mulciber! I was just minding my own business… okay, actually I was jinxing Potter and Black like we agreed I had the right to, with ordinary spells only! Then Mulciber came out of nowhere, and _Crucio!_ Suddenly she was on the ground screaming like crazy… I was trying to do the countercurse, but it wasn't working because I've never done it before—heck, I've never even seen it before—because I'd never use the Cruciatus Curse on anybody. I promised you that, like, you know…" In his panicked stupor, his speech devolved into a mess of unintelligible rambling. Severus knew that his incoherence didn't make for a convincing plea of innocence. But he was far too agitated to do any better.

"We'll see about that!" Lily grabbed his wand and placed its tip against her own. " _Prior Incantatum_!"

A wisp of gray smoke slithered out the tip of Snape's wand, and twisted itself into a hazy human figurine. The smoky apparition waved its right hand, and a faint " _Crucio_!" echoed from within. The shadow lingered for a few seconds before vanishing into nothingness.

A pregnant pause hung in the air. Lily cast her most venomous glare at a very jittery Severus, who had turned anemically pale as he stood holding the guilty wand…

"I TRUSTED YOU!" Lily screamed again. With tears streaming down her freckled cheeks, she slapped Severus across the face. "TAKE YOUR BLOODY CURSE OFF OF HER, NOW!"

The panicked Slytherin was shaking uncontrollably as he flailed his wand about, shouting the countercurse. His wand movements were completely devoid of their usual grace, elegance, and impeccable efficacy—replaced by a chaotic randomness befitting the current mood. Sparks of all colors and sizes fizzled out the tip of his wand. With mounting frustration, his technique became wilder and wilder, until his wand slipped from his sweaty fingers. "It's not working!" Severus cried out desperately.

"TAKE IT OFF!" Lily grabbed Severus by the ear and jerked his head back and forth, nearly tearing the appendage loose. The redhead was sobbing so loudly and hysterically; she was completely oblivious to his repeated shouts of innocence. Finally, Severus managed to bring his frenzied mind under control, and the countercurse materialized at last. The corridor fell silent and Mary MacDonald lay still.

"Mary!" Lily flung herself onto the floor, grabbing her fellow Gryffindor by the shoulders. "Mary, please wake up! It's over!" But the tortured girl remained deathly silent and unmoving. Severus hung back, chewing his nails nervously, as Lily rounded on him.

"YOU KILLED HER!" Lily delivered another slap across his face, causing his neck to whiplash violently. As Severus recoiled in pain, she became a veritable typhoon of whirling limbs, punching and kicking at every inch of his body.

"Ouch! Stop! Lily, I didn't do anything! I swear on Veritaserum, it was Mulciber!" Severus tried his hardest to push her off, but in her adrenaline-fueled rage, the redhead was unstoppable. "Ouch! He grabbed my wand and— _ouch_ —did the curse and— _ouch_ —ran away before you got here!"

Pure, unadulterated venom dripped from her tongue as Lily unleashed her wrath on the backstabbing phony of a friend who had, in spite of all his poignant words, reneged on their promise and cast an Unforgivable Curse upon an innocent soul. "I should have dumped you ages ago! I was a bloody fool to think you would change! You deserved everything James and Sirius ever did to you… and more! You deserve to have your entire arse sliced off! You deserve to break your neck playing Quidditch! You deserve to rot in Azkaban! You deserve to be kissed by a Dementor, if they would even want to touch a filthy, rotten, disgusting, degenerate piece of Death Eater worshipping—"

"Bloody hell! Will you just calm down and listen to me for one damn—"

"You killed her!" Lily sobbed as she choked on a torrential outpouring of tears and mucus. In spite of her overwhelming rage, grief was the prevailing emotion. Nothing was more heartbreaking than the destruction of a cherished friendship. Where was the sweet, adorable, wide-eyed little boy she'd once known and loved? Who was this calloused sociopath who'd rejected all they had built together, and sold himself out to a world of darkness?

The truth was clear. He was no longer the Severus Snape she had once called her brother and best friend. There was no turning back. "YOU COWARD!" Lily screamed lividly. "Just because Gryffindor made a fool of you in Quidditch! But you're too scared to fight James or Sirius, so you're taking it out on poor Mary, who could never hurt a fly! You swore off the Dark Arts forever… and now look at you, throwing Unforgivables around left and right!"

"I've never done a single Unforgivable in my bloody life!" Severus shouted. "I would never break a promise to—

His protests were silenced as a haymaker blacked his eye, and a right hook dislocated his jaw. A particularly vicious roundhouse cracked his collarbone and sent him sprawling. Lily pounced on top of Severus and continued to rain down blows. With quaking hands, she seized two fistfuls of greasy black hair, and began bashing his face into the floor.

"ENOUGH!" There was a loud bang and a flash of light, and Severus felt Lily's weight lifted from his body. A well-placed Impediment Jinx knocked the redhead off balance. Regaining her bearings, Lily made another move to attack her treacherous former friend. But a livid Professor McGonagall grabbed her by the collar.

"Ms. Evans, how dare you make such a racket in the corridors with this barbaric display of Muggle dueling? Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

The Transfiguration teacher hoisted a bruised, battered, and bloody Severus to his feet. With a sweep of her wand, he was made whole again. Sympathy and exasperation were mingled in her eyes. "And you, Mr. Snape. How many more fights must you be bailed out of? Why must you make enemies out of everyone with whom you cross paths?"

"Because he's evil!" Lily screeched, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. "Professor, he's a liar! He performed the Cruciatus Curse! _He killed Mary MacDonald_!"

"I didn't!" Snape's words exploded with frustration. "It was Mulciber!"

Professor McGonagall went white with shock. "You mean to tell me," her jaw clenched so tightly, her lips became nearly nonexistent. "That an Unforgivable Curse was just performed in these halls?"

"Ask her!" Lily thrust her finger at a lifeless shape huddled on the ground.

For the first time since Professor McGonagall arrived, the conversation shifted to the most important issue at hand: The fate of Mary MacDonald. As the Head of Gryffindor House laid eyes on her comatose student, her steely façade cracked and she fell to her knees with a horrified gasp.

Mary MacDonald was lifelessly sprawled on the floor. Her cheeks were scratched raw by her own fingernails, with jagged gashes running clean to the bone. Strips of mangled flesh and tendon peered out from within the bloody crevices, as if slices of raw bacon were plastered onto her face. Her arms and legs had become dislocated and hyperextended from all her convulsive thrashing—and were twisted at such grotesque angles, she resembled a human crab. Sporadic clumps of Mary's soft blonde hair had been torn out by her own fists. What remained of her hairline was crusted with salty crystals of dried sweat and tears.

A closer glance revealed that Mary had also wet herself. She was paler than Nearly Headless Nick, and as still as an ice sculpture.

"He killed her!" Lily screamed again. She wanted to vomit at the hideous sight.

"I didn't do anything!" Severus hollered back.

"Quiet, both of you!" Both teens flinched and fell silent. Professor McGonagall drew her wand and knelt over Mary's lifeless form. "She's alive," she confirmed after several nail-biting minutes of diagnostic spells. "But only barely. The poor girl was under the Cruciatus Curse for no less than ten minutes, and has been pushed to the brink of insanity. She must be taken to St. Mungo's at once."

"I'll come with her!" Lily volunteered.

"You most certainly will not," Professor McGonagall insisted. "Ms. Evans, Mr. Snape, back to your Common Rooms immediately! The Headmaster will be speaking to both of you shortly."

* * *

Evan Rosier clicked his tongue condescendingly, as a despondent-looking Snape slouched into the Slytherin Common Room. "Ah, the jilted lover slinks home in utter shame and defeat."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Snape grouched.

Rosier leaned back in his chair. "He did you a favor, you know?"

Snape whipped out his wand and thrust it menacingly at his fellow Slytherin. "You will stop talking in riddles and give a straight answer at once!" Instantly, Rosier's smugness wilted away and was replaced by genuine apprehension.

"You're better off without her," another voice joined the conversation. Snape looked over his shoulder, and his blood boiled at the sight of Mulciber.

Mulciber yawned hugely and took a swig of butterbeer. "I've got you figured out, Snape. You've gone soft because of that Lily Evans Mudblood. I did you a favor by removing her from your life."

"You did _what_?" Snape shrieked.

Mulciber rolled his eyes. "That girl would've ruined everything for you. You were going soft because of her. What about all our dreams and visions? The New World Order we were going to build together? We had a chance to unite under the Dark Lord and revolutionize the Wizarding World… to defend our way of life from those who would pollute and defile it and cast our pearls before swine… to take a stand for our proud Wizarding heritage. But you were ready to throw it away for a silly little childhood infatuation!"

"The Mudblood will never talk to you again after this," Rosier added. "So you might as well forget all about her, and turn your attention to bigger and better things."

Severus had heard enough. He seized chair from a nearly coffee table and smashed it over Mulciber's head, raising a reddish-purple lump the size of a walnut on his temple. Mulciber dropped to the floor gasping in pain, clutching at his head.

"You think Lily and I are finished?" Snape barked. "We'll see about that!" Without another word, he took a swig of Pain Relief Potion to soothe his aching left leg, and dove out through the Portrait Hole.

* * *

"Did you read that?" Alice Cadwallader sobbed, as a horde of Gryffindor girls huddled together around a recently arrived owl. "Mary will be in St. Mungo's until Christmas, and she might _never_ be back to normal!" The rest of the girls burst into tears.

Lily sat a few feet away from her housemates, staring unseeingly and despondently into the fireplace. Grisly images from the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse still saturated her mind. She had also read the letter from St. Mungo's, and had no desire to relive its contents.

According to the Healers, Mary was in grave danger. The flesh wounds had been the easy part. Although Mary had torn herself apart limb by limb as she writhed under the uncontrollable paroxysms, the Healers needed just one evening to stitch her back together. But her mind and soul remained precarious at best… on the brink of being lost forever into a bottomless blackness. She had lost all capacity for speech and memory. Her psychological state was likened to that of someone who'd been kissed by a Dementor. Lily rubbed her eyes furiously, trying to banish those horrible images from her mind.

"You mustn't blame yourself, Lily," Lauren Brown soothed her. "Severus Snape is a manipulative bastard. He took advantage of your kindness."

"I can't believe it," Lily mumbled. "I thought he was all right. But when I saw Mary like that…" she shuddered at the bone-chilling memory of Mary's lifeless, catatonic, self-mutilated body sprawled across the floor. Lily swallowed hard and screwed her eyes shut. "Such an ugly death."

Rachel Vane nodded gingerly. "I'm so thankful I wasn't there to witness it. Otherwise I would never be able to eat or sleep again. I could never be half as brave as you, Lily."

"We're here for you," Lauren agreed kindly. "It won't be easy moving on from someone you trusted for so long, but it's clear that he is not who he used to be. Lily, the sooner you get that greasy snake out of your life, the better."

"Severus Snape will never hurt or manipulate another person ever again," Patricia Patil gave Lily a comforting pat on the back. "That curse is unforgivable for a reason. I'll bet he's packing his bags and headed for Azkaban this very minute."

"And I'll bet he's not," a voice suddenly interrupted. It was James Potter. The cocky boy jerked his head in the direction of the Fat Lady. "Because he's outside the door right now, looking for a certain Lily Evans."

"Lily, be careful!" Alice implored as Lily rose to her feet and marched across the Common Room.

"Don't worry," Lily declared confidently, though her voice trembled. "I can handle myself." The redhead climbed through the Portrait Hole, and felt her stomach knot in rage as she found herself face to face with the hated Slytherin.

"What do you want?" Lily snapped. "Come here to gloat, have you?"

"No!" There was a whiny, pleading edge in Severus' voice that was so unbecoming of his Slytherin pride. "Please, just hear me out!"

Lily's voice cracked in anguish. "Mary's in St. Mungo's until Christmas! The Healers say she might never fully recover! Is this just laugh to you?"

"Lily, please, listen to me! It was Mulciber! I was trying to lift the curse when you arrived!"

"Don't lie to me! It was your wand!" Lily was near hysterics.

"Mulciber did it with my wand!" Snape wailed. "So that it wouldn't be traced back to him! Let's go to Slughorn's together. I'll take Veritaserum and prove that I'm—"

"How stupid do I look?" Lily demanded. "Why would a Mudblood like me go anywhere alone with you?"

"Don't say that!" Snape beseeched. Tears were welling in his eyes. He reached out to clasp her hand, but Lily jerked away.

"Stop it!" Lily shouted, her eyes equally moist. "Don't you get it? It's over! I'm finished with you!" She whirled around and started climbing back through the Portrait Hole, but Severus grabbed her by the sleeve.

"Lily, please! You don't really mean that!"

"Get out of my face! I hate you!" Lily threw his hands off of her with utmost disgust.

"No! You have to believe me!" The greasy-haired Slytherin fought to maintain his grip, with tears clouding his vision. Severus Snape would rather die than beg. But Lily Evans was a very rare and worthy exception. Every vestige of dignity was surrendered, as he struggled to maintain his tenuous hold on the only good thing to ever happen to him. But this single precious beacon of light was on the verge of being cruelly and forever extinguished. "Lily, what can I do to make you believe me? I'll do anything!"

Before Lily could continue her diatribe, a tartan-clad figure hurried over and grabbed Severus by the upper arm. "You are way past curfew, Mr. Snape. Let me escort you back to your Common Room."

"Professor, I didn't do anything wrong!" Severus regained his controlled manner of speaking, and tried to hide all evidence that he had been crying. "I was just—"

"Ms. Evans has requested that you refrain from any further contact with her," Professor McGonagall spoke tartly. "She has filed an official cease and desist against you."

"NO!" Snape screamed, his emotionless façade crumbling at once. He dropped to his knees, frantically reaching towards her. "Lily, please! You can't!"

"I can, and I did!" Lily declared. "And if you ever hurt any of my friends again, I will personally make sure—"

"Enough!" Professor McGonagall tightened her grip and began dragging Severus away from the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Professor, I swear it wasn't me! I have never used an Unforgivable Curse in my life!"

"I believe you, Severus." Professor McGonagall responded tartly. There was the slightest undercurrent of pity in her tone. "I truly do. But unfortunately, regardless of what you did or didn't do, Ms. Evans has the right to decide whom she associates with. You are not permitted to have any communication with her, outside of a supervised classroom setting."

As they rounded the corner and the entrance to the Gryffindor Common room was about to vanish from sight, he made one final desperate attempt.

"Lily, please! Just listen—"

"I don't ever have to listen to you again!" came the angry but heartbroken reply. "Get out of my life!"

"But—"

Scalding tears streamed down Lily's cheeks. "No buts, Snivelly! _I wish you were dead_!"

 **Poor Snivelly. When will he catch a break?**


	16. Unexpected Savior

**Some Reviewer:** **I hope so too! We shall find out in this chapter (and the next few) just how far things will go downhill.**

 **Ganymede:** **The Ministry is terrible at their job :)** **. Throwing Sirius in Azkaban without a trial… ordering Dementors to be placed at Hogwarts… letting Umbridge be a teacher… alternating between trying to ruin Harry's reputation and madly kissing up to him.**

 **Tragically, Lily was far too emotional to think rationally in Chapter 15. She had just witnessed an extremely traumatic and graphically violent scene, and wasn't thinking clearly.**

 **Let's find out when and how (if at all) Severus can win back Lily's trust and friendship! Or is it more accurate to say, can Severus forgive Lily for refusing to listen to him?  
**

 **Another Guest:** **You are right! Amputation implies cutting through bone. Excision would be the removal of soft tissue.**

 **Chapter 16:**

The hours grew late and the grandfather clock was now pointing at three. But the Gryffindor Common Room remained humming with activity. In the wake of Mary MacDonald's ordeal and her attacker's sickening attempt to dodge responsibility, many students found themselves unable to sleep.

"The bastard!" Alice exclaimed furiously. "That greasy, oily, slimy little wannabe Death Eater! He's got some nerve, showing his face around here after what he did to poor Mary!"

"Yeah," Patricia agreed. "It's disgusting how he thinks he's still entitled to Lily's friendship! He didn't have one ounce of sympathy for Mary, so why should anyone feel sorry for him now?" Both girls still had tears in their eyes, and were still ashen-faced and trembling at the discovery of Mary MacDonald's condition.

"The bloody coward! Tossing around Unforgivables like it was nothing! I bet the Dementors can't wait to get their hands on him!" Lauren raged.

"If he even has a soul to be sucked out." Rachel added. The fourth-year dabbed at her eyes. "What if Mary is never back to normal?" The entire room flinched at this devastating but very real possibility. According to the letter from St. Mungo's, the tortured girl had lost nearly all of her memories and emotions. Her language skills and muscle coordination had also regressed to that of an average two-year-old.

"I can't believe it!" Alice fumed. "Snivellus should have been expelled ages ago! There were obvious signs all along, but nobody did anything and now it's too late!"

The rest of the Gryffindors vociferously joined in on the Snape-bashing bandwagon. Everyone was clamoring to share their own story of how they had known all along that Snape was the scum of the earth, and how delighted they were that Lily had finally come to her senses. Soon the entire room was abuzz with spirited taunts.

"Did you see his face when Lily told him to get lost? The ugly git was crying so hard, there was grease dripping onto the floor!"

"It's too bad the Venomous Tentacula didn't kill him."

"Hey! I got some pictures of Snivelly with his knickers down and half his arse missing. Let's make a giant banner and hang it in the Great Hall." At these words, the entire Common Room howled with laughter, and James and Sirius both squirmed uncomfortably.

"Snivelly would probably kill himself if we did that."

"All the more reason to make it happen! Who'd miss him, anyways?"

"On the bright side, Lily has finally seen the light!"

Lily hung back, listening in miserable silence. She hunched over and stared blankly into the crackling fireplace. But the flames did little to soothe the aching coldness and emptiness that gnawed at her insides. Although she knew they were right, she took no pleasure in hearing the blistering invective that her housemates were heaping upon her former best friend. Lily was positive that Severus, wherever he was right now, must be every bit as heartbroken as she was.

 _Stop it,_ Lily tried to convince herself. _You've given him enough chances. He doesn't deserve your sympathy. The sooner you forget about him, the better._ But how could she forget? How could she ever truly kick him out of her heart?

"This is all my fault. I went soft on him in Quidditch." Cameron McLaggen ground his teeth together and clenched his massive fists. "None of this would've happened if I'd killed the bastard good and proper."

"Oh shut up, McLaggen," James snapped. "Not everything is about you."

As the two Quidditch stars continued to bicker, Lily heaved weary sigh and rose from the velvety red armchair. Leaving her rambunctious housemates, the beleaguered redhead trudged up the spiral staircase leading to the girl's dormitory. All she wanted was to escape into the quiet and peaceful world of dreamless sleep. Into a place where she wouldn't have to contend with the daunting reality that her best friend was lost forever.

* * *

A gentle hand on her shoulder stopped Lily in her tracks. She turned and found herself staring into a mop of windswept black hair, hazel eyes and round glasses.

James lowered his voice. "Lily, are you absolutely sure he did it?"

Lily sighed in exasperation and defeat. "Only Mary can answer that question. Unfortunately, she is in no shape to tell anyone anything!"

"So you didn't actually hear Snape say the incantation?" James queried. "You weren't there when the curse was thrown?"

"No," Lily admitted. "I heard horrible screams and went to investigate. I saw Mary on the ground screaming uncontrollably, scratching and clawing at herself, almost ripping her entire face off. Severus was standing over her with his wand out. There was nobody else in that corridor."

"Snape was there when it happened. That doesn't mean he did it," James pointed out. "Wouldn't he have seen the real perpetrator, if it wasn't him?"

"He insisted that Mulciber did it," Lily revealed. "But Mulciber wasn't even there. I used _Prior Incantatum_ , and it showed that his wand was used in the attack."

Lily's expression became one of guilt mingled with pride. "I pounded Severus into a pulp. I gave him two black eyes and a bloody nose. He tried to throw me off, but I punched him right here… I'm pretty sure I broke his collarbone. Then I punched him in the mouth and he went crashing to the floor. Next thing I was sitting on his back, smashing his face into the ground until McGonagall showed up."

James' eyes widened in simultaneous shock and amusement. "Whoa! Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes Perfect Prefect did _that_?" The former bully had to restrain the urge to high-five Lily for her audacity.

Lily nodded grimly. "Mary was in such bad shape when the curse was finally lifted, I thought she was dead. I had to do something."

James swallowed hard and regained his somber demeanor. "But Lily, what if Snape was telling the truth? Shouldn't we let him tell his side of the story before assuming the worst?"

The redhead quirked a skeptical eyebrow. Why wasn't James celebrating Snape's downfall with the rest of the Gryffindors? Why wasn't he entertaining the Common Room with spirited parodies of Snivelly's pitiful pleas for Lily to give him another chance? "Potter, seriously!" Lily snapped. "Do you have to capitalize on every single situation to make yourself into some sort of hero? I know you think your opinions are worth their weight in gold, but this is not the time for that!"

"No!" James declared. "I'm not doing this to make myself feel important. This is about doing the right thing. It's about being fair."

Lily rolled her eyes, unconvinced. "All hail King James, the voice of the oppressed, the defender of the weak, the crusader against injustice… the all-knowing, all-seeing arbiter over mere mortals…"

"Lily," James' voice was becoming more insistent and forceful. "This isn't about me! The point is, you walked in on the middle of the incident, so we don't have the whole story. There's no hard evidence that Snivelly did it. Suspicion is not evidence."

Now she was really confused. "Potter, what has gotten into you? You've changed." Lily's defensive tone had given way to genuine curiosity.

James cast a furtive glance over his shoulder. When he saw that the rest of the Gryffindors were still avidly engaged in their Snape-bashing party and that nobody was eavesdropping, he decided to make his confession. "Sirius and I beat up Snivelly for ratting us out about the Venomous Tentacula. Dumbledore caught us. Long story short, he had a chat with us, and I've started seeing things differently."

"Really?" Lily asked. "And what on earth could he have done to get the message through your fat head?"

James shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks turning pink. He wasn't about to go elaborate on the Dementors. But Lily deserved an honest answer, albeit without the full details. Although his close encounter with a Dementor's Kiss had achieved great strides in whittling down James' trademark arrogance and sense of invincibility, he wasn't about to render himself completely vulnerable.

James chose his words carefully. "Well, Dumbledore has a way of getting through to people. You know how he is. He really made me see how rotten it feels when the whole system is rigged against you. When you're all alone and helpless and nobody's got your back. When you know you'll never receive justice and you're not allowed to defend yourself, because your point of view doesn't matter and nobody gives a damn about you. Anyways, that's not important. Right now, what you need to do is find Snivelly before he goes off the deep end."

"Severus is a tough one." Lily reasoned. "If he can survive a hundred trips to the Hospital Wing, he can survive getting the cold shoulder. He was even ready to fight McLaggen during that Quidditch match."

The Common Room was beginning to empty, as students grew tired and their repertoires of creative anti-Snape insults started to run dry. Soon the appeal of the verbal lynch mob had died away. Only James and Lily remained awake.

"It's different coming from you," James said sagely. "You see, Lily, you're the only person whose opinion he gives a damn about. One dirty look from you would make old Snivelly cry more than all the Venomous Tentacula in the world."

A lengthy silence punctuated their somber discussion. Lily gazed intently into James' hazel eyes and found only sincerity and concern, without a trace of the characteristic smugness that so strongly characterized his every move. "You're right," she admitted softly. "I haven't been fair. I'm going to go find Severus, and give him a chance to explain."

James tossed his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map at her. "Take this." With a hasty word of gratitude, Lily vanished beneath the cloak and clambered out the Portrait Hole.

* * *

Lily crept silently along the empty corridors, her emerald orbs scanning meticulously over every inch of the map. Severus was not in the Slytherin Common Room or the Hospital Wing—two of his most frequented locations. _Where are you, Sev? I need to talk to you…_ Lily implored silently.

Wandering the corridors after hours was foreign to Lily Evans. But beneath the impenetrable cover of the Invisibility Cloak, safely hidden away from prying eyes, she had to admit that there was a definite degree of appeal to the experience. The entire castle was her oyster. The cloak freed her to explore all the hidden treasures of Hogwarts… to revel in the acquisition of knowledge and history that had eluded generation after generation of rule-abiding students, who had limited their studies strictly to the confines of the classroom.

Lily snapped out of her fantasies when a dot labeled _Severus Snape_ caught her eye. There he was, in the girl's lavatory on the first floor. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Excitement exploded in her chest. There he was! Pulling the cloak securely over her shoulders, Lily made a mad dash for the staircase. Her hair became sweaty and disheveled as she rounded another corner and sprinted frantically down the corridor. Finally, she arrived. Lily skidded to a halt in front of the deserted lavatory that Severus had converted into a sort of personal sanctuary, away from the chronic bullying and taunts that followed him through the corridors on a daily basis.

With a trembling hand and pounding heart, Lily knocked on the closed door. "Sev, are you in there?" She gulped for air and tried to steady her breathing.

No response. Lily knocked as hard as she could without drawing unnecessary attention. "Sev, it's me! I just want to talk to you!" When her call remained unanswered, Lily pressed her ear against the smooth wooden surface and strained her hearing. But not a sound was detected.

 _Alohomora!_ The door creaked open and Lily gingerly stepped into the foreboding blackness. Instinctively, she raised her wand and prepared to illuminate the darkened room, but an eerie premonition held her back. What if she saw something she didn't want to see? What if, awaiting her in the shadows, lurked a terrifying new reality that she was unprepared to face?

A feeble, wheezing gasp of air interrupted her vacillations. The redhead jumped in fright. She peered intently through the darkness. A shapeless mass was barely discernible, slumped against the opposite wall.

 _Lumos!_ A silvery wisp of light illuminated the bathroom. Severus was sitting lopsidedly in the corner, his head drooping to one side.

"Severus!" Lily flung herself down by his side and prepared to launch into a frantic monologue of apologies and attempted reconciliation. But a hiss of pain caused her to pull back. "Sev, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Did Mulciber—"

A strange wetness was seeping into Lily's hand, from where her fist was tightly clenched around his robe. The redhead turned her wand on him, and let out a macabre scream.

A bloody dagger dangled from his lifeless right hand. Oceans of crimson were gushing from a several deep gashes in his left wrist. Both eyes were half-open, half-covered by flickering eyelids. His sunken cheeks were deathly pale and streaked with tears that he'd so desperately tried to conceal. But there was no point clinging to his Slytherin pride anymore. As blood continued to leak out from his broken body, his breathing grew weaker and the sallow face continued to lose what little color it still had.

Lily hastily ripped off her sock and prepared to bind it around his emaciated, badly hemorrhaging wrist. "Don't move, Sev. I'm going for help right away." As Lily whirled around and prepared to leave, Severus grabbed her robes with his uninjured hand, pulling her close.

A terrible, gurgling, rasping sound leaked out from his throat. "Take… it…" He gestured vaguely. Lily laid a trembling hand over his pocket and felt the flimsy stiffness of a rectangular object and a cylindrical tube. She reached in to withdraw a vial full of swirling silvery fluid, and a stack of folded parchment.

When the vial of memories was tucked safely away into Lily's own pocket and protected by an Unbreakable Charm, Snape's grip on her robe weakened.

"Look… at… me…" he whispered. The green eyes locked in with the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the darker pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Lily thudded to the floor, and Snape's head dropped into his chest with a dull clunk of finality. It was over. The last thing Severus had ever heard from his best friend was an unfounded accusation and a savage tirade of verbal abuse.

Tears gushed down Lily's cheeks in a torrential outpouring of grief as she clung to her friend's lifeless body. "SEVERUS, PLEASE! NO!"

 **What's going to happen to Snape? Will he survive? Read on to find out!**


	17. Truth

**Whoa, you guys aren't cutting Lily any slack! I guess the takeaway message is that we should NEVER walk in on the middle of a conversation or interaction, and jump to conclusions about what's going on. Sadly, Lily learned this the hard way.**

" _ **Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath:**_ _ **For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God…**_ _**If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.**_ _ **"— James**_ _ **1:19-20, 26**_

 **Some Reviewer:** **Yes indeed! Lily once gave Severus another chance after he really messed up, so it seems fair that he return the favor this time!**

 **Ganymede:** **That is a very sharp observation! I didn't notice that the characters were acting that way (whenever Severus is upset that he's been treated badly, the topic instantly gets changed to something more important). However, now that you mention it, it definitely seems to be a pattern!**

 **To all other Guest reviewers:** **Absolutely, Lily was a bad friend and quite OOC in Chapters 15-16. She was too emotional after seeing what happened to Mary MacDonald, and was completely blinded by anger and fear. She will come to her senses in this chapter, and greatly regret what she said/did earlier.**

 **Chapter 17:**

"HELP!" Lily screamed, racing frantically through the empty corridors. "HELP! A STUDENT HAS BEEN KILLED!"

"Ooooooh, this is exciting." Moaning Myrtle rambled in her characteristic monotone. "It has been _ages_ and _ages_ since anything interesting has happened in Myrtle's bathroom. Unless you count that time the Black and Potter boys beat up the greasy little snake last year…"

"Shut up!" Lily shrieked through hysterical tears. "It's not funny!"

Footsteps came racing down the corridor. The door burst open, and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall shoved past Lily. There was a loud bang, and a coil of bandages exploded from the tip of the Headmaster's wand and wrapped themselves tightly around Snape's hemorrhaging wounds, stemming the cataclysmic flow of blood.

Dumbledore knelt down and inspected the cold, limp body. "He's alive," he confirmed, as a wave of relief washed over Lily like a cool, fresh mountain spring. "A week in the Hospital Wing will have him good as new. Physically, at least. I don't know how he will cope emotionally. Truth be told, death may be kinder than a life stripped of all dignity. The Severus Snape that I know would rather die on his own terms, than live with everyone knowing he was capable of such desperation and vulnerability."

The melancholic ghost continued to drone on. "Moaning Myrtle and Sniveling Severus, alone and forgotten forever in the bathroom…"

"That will do, Myrtle! The poor boy has enough detractors on our side of the veil, he doesn't need any from yours." Professor McGonagall snapped. " _Silencio_!" Instantly, Myrtle's snide comments came to a screeching halt.

"Hem hem," a gruff voice suddenly appeared from behind their shoulders. Standing silhouetted in the bathroom doorway was the outline of an incredibly obese Potions Master. The moonlight reflected the sweat and grease that was dripping from his corpulent face.

Slughorn clutched at his massive belly as he doubled over, struggling to catch his breath. "Good evening, Professors. What's the ruckus?"

"Your student has attempted to take his life, Horace."

Slughorn stepped forward. As a beam of moonlight streamed through an overhead window, he recognized the greasy black hair and gaunt, sallow face immediately. His mouth fell open. "Snape? Strong, resilient, tough as nails, doesn't-take-crap-from-anyone Severus Snape? Merlin, who knew the boy was so fragile? I know he wanted to be a big-shot Quidditch star and his first match was a disaster, but—"

"Mr. Snape doesn't give a damn about Quidditch, Horace," Professor McGonagall interrupted impatiently. "But he cares a lot about making Ms. Evans happy. In fact, he'll do anything to give Ms. Evans what she _wishes_ for."

Lily's face reddened and a spasm of guilt rippled through her stomach. She hadn't failed to catch the insinuation. "I'm sorry," she spoke in barely a whisper. And she truly meant it. She lovingly stroked the stack of envelopes that Severus had given her in what had appeared to be his dying moments.

"Those we love we hurt the most…" Dumbledore mused dreamily. There was a flicker of solidarity in his blue eyes. "Horace, Minerva, please take Severus to the Hospital Wing. I will have a word with Lily."

* * *

Lily raced to keep up with Dumbledore's long strides, as they made their way to the Headmaster's Office. "Professor, I really should be with Severus. When he wakes up, I have to tell him—"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence her protests. "I think it is his turn to do the telling, and our turn to do the listening. Lily, am I correct that Severus left some items in your possession in his final moments of consciousness?" The Headmaster gave her cryptic, knowing smile. Somehow, Albus Dumbledore seemed to be omnisciently aware of every single thing that went on in Hogwarts—even though he often neglected to intervene.

"Yes, sir." Shuffling through the wad of envelopes, Lily found one—the thickest—addressed to her, and prepared to unfold it.

Dumbledore shook his head and pointed to the vial of memories in her robe pocket. "I suggest we start here. Pensieves record events as they actually happened. Letters record events as they were perceived. I think both you and I have learned a lot about the importance of impartial judgment."

Another twinge of guilt elicited queasy spasms in Lily's chest. For all her indignation over the years towards Dumbledore's unfairness towards Severus, events of late had revealed that she had it in her also. "Yes, sir."

"Good girl," With a loving pat on the shoulder, Dumbledore's grandfatherly demeanor returned. "Sherbet Lemon!"

The gargoyle rolled aside with the wrenching, abrasive sound of stone grinding against stone. A hole in the wall appeared, revealing a spiral staircase covered in burgundy carpet.

Dumbledore wasted no time in plowing up the staircase with a speed and agility astonishing for a man of his age. Lily shuffled her feet as she followed. She could feel at least a dozen pairs of eyes following her intently from the confines of their portrait frames. Facing forward with her gaze transfixed on the carpet, Lily avoided all eye contact. Perhaps by hiding behind a stony mask of emotionless indifference… perhaps by providing no window into her soul, she could prevent these inquisitive eyes from glimpsing the perfidy in her heart and making her feel even more rotten than she already did. Getting scolded was a foreign experience to the rule-abiding, morally conscious young Gryffindor.

Dumbledore crossed the office in three long strides, and threw open some cabinet doors. A large, stony basin lay within. The Headmaster emptied the contents of Snape's vial into the swirling depths of the Pensieve, then he smiled and took Lily by the hand. "After you, my dear."

Lily stared at the ghostly, ethereal substance with a dissonant array of questions racing through her mind. What was so important that Severus insisted on imparting to her with his dying breath? What did he so desperately want her to know? Then again, if not for her, Severus would be here to tell her what he wanted to say. His voice would not have been extinguished, and his humanity reduced to a mere memory and some lifeless ink on parchment.

But Lily would not have to speculate. There in front of her, in that enigmatic tangle of wispy gray tendrils, the truth lay hidden. To avoid confronting the truth would be an insult to her dear friend, and a ghastly betrayal of everything Godric Gryffindor had stood for. Without any further equivocation, Lily stepped forward and dove headfirst into the Pensieve.

After a few seconds of plummeting through empty space, Lily felt her feet landing on solid ground. When she regained her bearings and glanced around, the paintings on the wall revealed that she was in the Charms Corridor. Judging by the sheer number of familiar faces and snippets of familiar conversations she overheard, Lily deduced that this was a very recent memory.

James and his friends were approaching Flitwick's classroom. Lily could hear James' swaggering voice drifting down the corridor as he bantered with an equally cocky Sirius.

" _Diffindo_!" A streak of light burst out of nowhere, splitting open the seat of James' pants. Lily jumped at the sudden apparition. She peered around the corner, and found its source. There, crouching behind a suit of armor with his wand drawn, was a very indignant-looking Severus.

"Sev, you're okay!" Lily instinctively rushed to embrace her friend, until she remembered that he could neither hear nor see her.

Severus took aim and fired again. " _Incendio_!" Sirius' homework caught on fire. " _Flipendo_!" Peter Pettigrew toppled down the staircase and crashed into a suit of armor.

Lily shrugged matter-of-factly. "Well, it's the least they deserve," she mused, "And I think James knows it."

As Lily continued to watch, one very illuminating observation dawned on her: Severus had not used any Dark Magic. As much as he hated those awful boys who had ruthlessly bullied him for five years… as much as—and Lily was sure of this—he secretly wished to bombard them with Unforgivable Curses, Severus had thus far kept his promise to her.

But Lily would not have much longer to dwell on these contemplations. For at that moment, the real reason why Severus wanted her to see this memory became crystal clear.

"You're pathetic, Snape. Allow me." Lily almost gasped aloud as Mulciber arrived on scene, and approached Severus from behind.

Before Severus could react, Mulciber grabbed him by the wrist and redirected his wand towards Mary MacDonald. Lily could only watch in horror as what was unmistakably Mulciber's voice reverberated through the corridor.

" _Crucio_!"

Mulciber smirked as he turned to leave. "And _that_ is how a real Death Eater gets it done."

As Mary dropped to the floor in a fit of uncontrollable screaming and twitching, Lily clapped both hands over her ears and turned away. She was still deeply traumatized by what she had seen of Mary's ordeal, and had no desire to relive the memory so soon. She watched as an expression of equal horror crossed Severus' face. The greasy-haired Slytherin flailed his wand about, desperately trying to lift the curse.

Lily sank to her knees and forced both hands even tighter over her ears. It was painful to watch, as the truth she had so intransigently denied unfolded right before her. Bitter tears of remorse stung her eyes, as she wept for the friend—two friends—that had been so grievously wronged. Two victims of Dark Magic: One a Gryffindor, and one a Slytherin.

As Severus continued to fire off futile countercurses, Lily realized something. He could have simply fled the crime scene. He could have left Mary to suffer indefinitely, and washed his hands clean of everything. He could have collapsed in a heap of nonsensical emotion. But he didn't. Just the sight of the Cruciatus Curse had driven veteran Aurors into therapy. Yet here Severus stood, his resolve unwavering, refusing to be intimidated into hiding. Truly his strength lay not in Quidditch, or even in Potion-making, but in an indomitable willpower. Lily felt a surge of pride in his strength and resilience. _You are the bravest person I know, Sev,_ she thought warmly. _I wish I had seen it before._

"I think that's enough." Dumbledore took Lily by the hand, and the duo rose out of the Pensieve. The Charms Corridor slowly devolved into a miasma of hazy images and indecipherable sounds, and soon Lily found herself back in the Headmaster's Office.

"Learn anything new today?" Dumbledore was as calm as ever, as if heartbreaking disillusionments and anagnorisis were an everyday experience. As if there was nothing special about suddenly realizing that you committed a scandalous act of injustice, and drove your best friend to suicide.

"I was a horrible friend!" Lily sobbed. "This is all my fault. I have to go see Severus… apologize, beg for forgiveness— _but no_! He could never forgive what I did!"

"Oh, but that's not true." Dumbledore was still completely unfazed as he sat in his high-backed oaken chair, head lifted high and hands folded on his desk. The elderly Headmaster projected all the poise and confidence of an ancient king. He gave Lily another cryptic half-smile. "Of course Severus will forgive you. What choice does he have?"

Lily was getting increasingly agitated and confused. Why could Dumbledore never give a straight answer? Why was he always speaking in riddles and subterfuge? Why couldn't he simply let yes mean yes, and no mean no? "Headmaster, what do you mean Severus doesn't have a choice? Of course he does… we all do, don't we?"

But Dumbledore only continued his circumlocutory manner of speaking. "He does, but he doesn't. To whom can he turn if he doesn't accept you back as his friend? Who else does he have?"

A familiar glint returned to his blue eyes, as Dumbledore unsheathed their last and most powerful bit of leverage. "Wasn't it just a few months ago that Severus was begging for _your_ forgiveness after _he_ made a critical misstep?" Lily nodded mutely.

"Well, he owes you one."

* * *

Lily took her usual seat by Snape's bedside in the Hospital Wing. Severus was such a frequent denizen of the Hospital Wing, many pillowcases and blankets were permanently stained with grease.

The undersized Slytherin was a scrappy, resilient fellow—refusing to be intimidated, refusing to let his weakness show, and refusing to give any bully the satisfaction of knowing he had been broken. Unfortunately, his indefatigable defense of his Slytherin pride would always come at the expense of his body. Although Severus was constantly getting smashed into a bloody pulp by various gangs of bullies, he never let anyone beat him emotionally.

But this time, things were different. And Lily Evans knew perfectly well that she was at fault. With a contrite heart and an open mind, she unfolded his letter and began to read.

 _Dear Lily,_

 _By the time you are reading this letter, I will no longer be alive. I also trust that by now you have learned the truth about Mary MacDonald._

 _I love you, Lily. I always have. Honestly, what's not to love about you? There is much that can be said about your wits, your kindness, and your sense of fair play. But it is the more personal side of you, which I love best. The Lily Evans that is at the top of every class, yet never shows an ounce of arrogance or complacency. The Lily Evans that stands firm on her principles, but is always respectful towards other points of view. The Lily Evans that has a heart of an angel and the courage of a lion, yet never comes across as a sanctimonious do-gooder. The Lily Evans that extends the hand of friendship and kindness towards those who can do nothing for her. This is the playmate, sister, and friend that I love with all my heart._

 _The racial slur I called you at the end of our Fifth Year was unforgivable. To have even won back your friendship—however momentarily—was grace beyond anything I deserved. I betrayed your trust once before, and so it is only fair that you could never fully trust me again. That our friendship could never rebound to its previous level. However, I can rest in peace knowing that (1) I have not reneged on my promise to you, and (2) Mulciber will be brought to justice. If anything good comes out of this tragic episode, perhaps it will be that the issue of Death Eater recruitment at Hogwarts will finally be taken seriously._

 _While we are on the topic of aspiring Death Eaters at Hogwarts, it is imperative that you stay safe and vigilant in these coming days. My housemates are blaming you for my renouncing of the Dark Arts, and it is only a matter of time before you are also scapegoated for Mulciber getting caught. We know that Mulciber uses Unforgivable Curses for fun. Imagine what he would do for retaliation. Hidden beneath a loose tile in Myrtle's bathroom is something that I hope you will find useful, when that day comes. I cannot divulge too many details in this letter, in case it falls into the wrong hands, but rest assured that all will be made clear when you retrieve this item._

 _I realize that nobody is going to care that I am gone. But that's okay. I'm at peace with this fact. I decided a long time ago that your opinion was the only one that ever mattered to me. And so this is the legacy I want to leave behind: An undying love for the greatest friend a lonely boy could ever have. An unquenchable determination to see the Dark Arts vanquished from Hogwarts and our world._

 _You have spent the past five years defending me against the prejudices of your housemates. Now I ask for a chance to return the favor._

 _Love you always,_

 _Severus_

 **Well, the truth is out! Snape's name has been cleared. Now, will he accept Lily back as a friend? Stay tuned!**


	18. Final Gifts

**Merry Christmas everyone!**

 **Well, it looks like the popular opinion is that, "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" isn't as bad as, "No buts, Snivelly! I wish you were dead!"**

 **The Scriptures tell us that to "do justly" (Micah 6:8) is of utmost importance to the Christian life. Justice means not forming an opinion if you don't know what really happened. Justice means letting someone tell their side of the story before judging them. Justice is based on what someone ACTUALLY did, not (1) what someone accused them of doing, (2) what it looked like they were doing, or (3) what we think they did.**

" _ **Be not a witness against thy neighbour without cause; and deceive not with thy lips." – Proverbs 24:28**_

" _ **Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour." – Exodus 20:16**_

" _ **These six things doth the**_ _ **Lord**_ _ **hate… a lying tongue… hands that shed innocent blood… a heart that deviseth wicked imaginations…**_ _ **a false witness that speaketh lies… he that soweth discord among brethren." – Proverbs 6:16-19**_

" _ **Doth our law judge any man, before it hear him, and know what he doeth?" – John 7:51**_

 **Chapter 18:**

Lily felt her heart shatter into a million fragments as she finished reading his letter. The small, cramped writing and loopy letters spelled out a tender confession of love that she did not deserve.

Truly she had been a terrible friend. What on earth had possessed her to wish death upon someone who had already struggled for years with bullying and depression? Let alone her best friend! Crushed by feelings of guilt and remorse, Lily leaned over to hug the cold, unconscious body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you." Lily cringed as she remembered the blistering tirade of verbal abuse that she had launched at Severus. She had been so angry and irrational, completely blinded by a tidal wave of uncontrolled emotions, she wasn't interested in anything he had to say. Now she'd give anything to be able to hear his voice again.

Lily traced her fingers over the deep scars that traversed his wrists. There they would always remain, as a lifelong testimony of all the pain and injustice he had suffered over the years. Thousands of sleepless nights, tormented by loneliness, by abandonment, by a relentless onslaught of vicious words and flying fists. Hiding behind a bulletproof shield of cold indifference, pretending that nothing and nobody could reach his heart… until the day came that he was finally broken.

Now that the shock of Mary's ordeal had ebbed, now that Lily was more emotionally detached from the situation, her rational perspective had returned. The truth was painfully obvious now. She had been so blind and ignorant.

Lily continued to think out loud. "Why didn't I believe you? Why was I so quick to think the worst about my best friend?"

But the Hospital Wing remained silent. Only Lily could answer her own question.

"Maybe I didn't believe you… because I couldn't have been as brave as you were," she whispered. Tears dripped from her emerald green eyes and landed on his cheek. "Maybe it's because if I were you, I would not have had the willpower to keep my promise. If I had suffered half as much as you have these past five years, I would have cracked long ago. Maybe I judged you based on what I think _I_ would have done if I were in your shoes."

Unbeknownst to Lily, at the sound of her voice, Severus had broken out of his dreamless sleep. Though apparently unconscious and fast asleep, he was drinking in every word.

Lily laid a hand over his chest, smiling as she felt the soft but steady beat of his heart. The heart that never stopped loving her. "But I was wrong, Sev. I was wrong to judge you as I would have judged myself… because you are the bravest person I have ever known."

At these words, Severus nearly betrayed himself. A shuddering spasm of warmth and relief inundated his body. Tears of elation welled beneath his eyelids, threatening to spill over in an ignominious display of vulnerability. But Severus was not yet ready to return to the real world. Not yet ready to meet Lily face-to-face and contend with all that had recently happened. So he continued to feign unconsciousness, while basking in the warm glow of her praise.

His face hidden behind a curtain of greasy black hair, the hopeful Slytherin smiled into his pillow. _Perhaps if I hold out for long enough, she will admit that she loves me too._

* * *

Lily knelt down and tapped her wand against one tile after another. Somewhere hidden beneath the floor of Myrtle's bathroom, Severus had left her a parting gift. His instructions had been cryptic yet ominous. According to his letter, Lily was seeking a mysterious item that would protect her from any potential retaliation from angry Slytherins.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" With the hollow yet abrasive sound of ceramic sliding across stone, a loose tile rolled away to reveal a hollow recess in the floor. Lily peered into the dark crevice and withdrew a bottle full of canary-yellow potion, and a hastily scrawled note. She recognized Severus' handwriting at once.

 _Lily,_

 _Here is a bottle of Immunity Potion. The potion was specifically brewed to work for you only. I applied a Fingerprint Charm, so no one else can open the bottle. Two drops a day will protect you from most curses and hexes, causing the spell to rebound onto the attacker. I cannot guarantee that it will work against Unforgivable Curses. So it is imperative that something is done about Mulciber. Don't let your guard down around him. Or Rosier or Avery or the others. Stay safe and be vigilant. I love you._

Lily clutched the bottle of potion to her chest and let the tears flow fresh. Even in the midst of devastating heartbreak, his love for her never failed. Even as he was preparing to end his own life, his concern was for her safety and protection. And so she would honor his love and sacrifice by doing everything to make sure that the Dark Arts—and _all_ malicious behavior, regardless of whether they were officially labeled "Dark"—would never again be tolerated Hogwarts.

Her final words to Severus grated on her mind, like nails on a chalkboard. _No buts, Snivelly! I wish you were dead!_ What on earth could have possessed her to say something so rotten? Had she been Confunded? Did Dementors suck out her soul? Had her heart been infected by Venomous Tentacula?

Lily downed two drops of the bright yellow potion. An inexplicable sense of positivity flooded through her veins. She felt strangely warm and comforted, as if protected by an invisible embrace. As she was rushing back to the Hospital Wing to rejoin Severus, she ran headlong into James.

James nimbly ducked sideways to simultaneously capture a loose Snitch (which he must have nicked once again) out of the air, and prevent at a stack of books from flying out of his hands. "Whoa, Evans! I knew you'd find me irresistible. I told Sirius you'd go out with me by our Sixth Year, and here's the proof!"

Lil cut him off as he was beginning to ramble at length about a purported Hogsmeade date. "Potter, you were right! It really was Mulciber all along—I saw it in Dumbledore's Pensieve! I was such an idiot, I can't believe I told Severus—"

James gave a nonchalant shrug. "I told you, it was obvious. Snape would rather die than break a promise to you. Besides, if he was gonna use Unforgivable Curses against anyone, it would've been me or Sirius. Why would he choose Mary? It doesn't make sense!"

The pretentious Quidditch star rumpled his hair. "If Snape was gonna lose you as a friend, he might as well get something out of it."

Lily rolled her eyes. "When did you become such an expert in what Severus thinks?"

James blushed uncomfortably. His cockiness was replaced by contrition. "When you've spent five years trying to make someone's life as miserable as possible, you learn a few things about the way his mind works. Believe me when I tell you that you're probably the only person on Earth capable of truly hurting Snivelly's feelings."

"Don't use that nickname!" Lily shouted.

"Old habits die hard," James confessed. "Now go tell Sniv— _Severus_ how sorry you are. Give him a hug, apologize sincerely, but remind him he needs to wash his hair and change his underwear at least once a term."

" _James!_ "

The cocky Gryffindor held up both hands in surrender. "I'm trying, I'm trying!"

* * *

When Lily reentered the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey was deep in conversation with the Slytherin Head of House. As she wrapped a fresh roll of bandages around Snape's lacerated wrists, the nurse was ranting heatedly about the pitiful lack of supervision and leniency towards bullying at Hogwarts. The two adults smiled knowingly at each other as Lily entered into the room.

Before Lily could burst into a monologue of profuse apologies and extravagant declarations of friendship, Madam Pomfrey spoke up. She seemed to have read Lily's mind.

"Don't worry, dear. He will forgive you. In fact, I'm sure he already has."

"I appreciate the reassurance," Lily responded earnestly and politely. "But is it really fair to him if this matter gets dismissed so easily?"

Before Lily could respond, Professor Slughorn spoke up. "Severus called you an extremely offensive name last year, and was every bit as remorseful as you are now. You gave him another chance. You forgave him when you didn't have to. I believe he will take to heart the mercy you once showed him, and pay it forward."

Lily sighed at these words. She truly appreciated these attempts at assuaging her guilt. But she wished that people would show as much concern for Severus' point of view, as they did for hers.

The redhead stared at her feet and mumbled, "But I said so much more than just one word. I said a lot of things. I told Severus to kill himself... I beat him up, choked him, broke his nose…"

Professor Slughorn gave a hearty chuckle. "Lily, Severus got beat up by Cameron McLaggen and Orville Wood last year. Multiple times, I might add. Both those boys outweigh him by about two hundred pounds each. But every time, Sev got right back on his feet and kept swinging. Nearly tore off a piece of McLaggen's ear, before they knocked him out cold. You really think Severus would be permanently scarred by you slapping him around a few times?"

Lily remembered what James had said earlier. "Severus may be tough, but he has his limits."

Madam Pomfrey began spooning Blood Replenishing Potion into Snape's throat. "And losing your friendship is where he draws his limit."

 **Snape will wake up in the next Chapter. How will his first post-suicide-attempt conversation with Lily go?**


	19. Potions

**Ganymede:** **Yes indeed, things won't go back to normal for Lily and Snape quite yet. It will be a while before things are fully sorted out. Stay tuned for more!**

 **Happy New Year everyone!**

 **Earlier this week I was doing a bit of thinking about Snape and the Marauders, and realized some very tragic (and to a large extent, self-inflicted) realities about Snape:**

 **(1). With regard to Lily, Snape really shot himself in the foot. Snape started out with a HUGE advantage over James. He and Lily were childhood friends. They hung out together every summer. Lily HATED James for five years. But somehow, Snape blew his massive lead. James catching up to Snape is equivalent to coming back from a 0-3 deficit in a Best-of-Seven competition.**

 **It's hard to imagine how Snape allowed himself to become so unlikeable, Lily winded up ditching her best friend for the last person on earth people thought she would date ("I'd rather go out with the Giant Squid!" In other words, Snape became less attractive than the Giant Squid). It was practically a Tortoise-and-Hare race. Snape was miles ahead of James in winning Lily's love, but somehow he blew it.**

 **If your best friend since childhood ends up dumping you in favor of someone that he/she has despised for 5 years… how badly did you screw up? Imagine if Ron became such a jerk in** **Order of the Phoenix** **or** **Half Blood Prince** **, Hermione winded up choosing Draco over him.**

 **(2). Snape remained bitter for the rest of his life about getting bullied as a teenager. But no matter how badly Snape was bullied during his time at Hogwarts, justice was more than served in the end. James was killed, and Sirius spent 12 years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. What more does Snape want? Both of Snape's bullies suffered much more than what they ever did to him.**

 **Snape should have recognized that James and Sirius have been punished enough. He should have shown some grace.**

 **(3). I'm sure that when Snape gets to the Wizard Afterlife, Lily won't be too happy to see him after the way he treated Harry. I imagine Snape crying bitter tears of remorse in Wizard Heaven, for what could have been. He could have stepped up at a time when Harry desperately needed a father figure—playing the role that would have belonged to James. He could have loved Harry the same way he once loved Lily. He could have been a caring teacher, and made sure that nobody else got bullied the way he once was. Snape could have done so much to vicariously right the past, but in many ways he didn't.**

 **In The Prince's Tale, Dumbledore kept telling Snape that Harry is nothing like James. But Snape refused to see it until his dying moments, when it was too late to make amends or form a new relationship with Harry.**

 **Conclusion: Snape is his own worst enemy. **

**Chapter 19:**

Two more days passed before Severus was discharged from the Hospital Wing, and back into the dog-eat-dog world of Hogwarts. But nothing felt normal—even by his standards. Snide whispers followed him down every corridor.

"What a little crybaby."

"He tried to kill himself."

"It's too bad he didn't succeed."

"Careful, don't hurt his feelings or he might _Crucio_ you."

A few nonverbal _Langlock_ hexes, and the detractors were silenced. But though their mouths had been stopped, their attitudes had not. The damage had been done.

Severus was used to being bullied. Over the years, he had become nearly immune to the flying fists and stinging hexes that seemed to chase him day and night. In fact, Severus would be surprised to walk down a corridor _without_ anyone trying to trip him, smash his face into a wall, or push him down a flight of stairs. Everyone hated that greasy little oddball who clung onto Lily Evans like a parasite.

True, he was everyone's favorite victim. But at least in the past, Severus could declare with honesty and pride that he wasn't an easy victim. Slughorn had noted with great admiration how the scrawny Slytherin, who barely weighed a hundred pounds, fought back against Cameron McLaggen, who was the size of a bull. How Severus never let the so-called Marauders break him, even as he was outnumbered four against one. How he refused to let anyone scare him away from Quidditch, despite his debilitating handicap and lack of natural talent. No matter how badly Severus was tormented, he always had his reputation.

Now he didn't even have that. Now everyone knew that he was weak enough to try and kill himself. Outrageous stories of him sobbing outside the Gryffindor Common Room had spread like wildfire through Hogwarts. Walking through the corridors, Severus felt every bit as naked as he did when James and Sirius removed his underwear in front of the entire school. He secretly wished that he could kill himself for good. But he refused to make Lily go the ordeal a second time.

When everyone was at lunch, Severus quietly retrieved a broom and headed for the outskirts of the Quidditch pitch. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. The lofty canopies of the Forbidden Forest beckoned him forward, mysterious and bold, tantalizing him to find strength in solitude. High above the treetops, above that prisonhouse of gossip and bullying, he would inhale the sweet air of emancipation.

Unfortunately, a certain redhead was not complying with his wishes.

"Sev! Aren't you going to have lunch?" Lily raced across the grounds to intercept the lonely Slytherin.

Severus froze just as he was about to mount. He wasn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared to come face to face with Lily, and delve into what was sure to be a grueling emotional therapy session. "Not hungry," he mumbled.

Lily glanced at the broom in his hand. "You aren't going to do anything drastic, are you?"

Snape's face was completely devoid of all emotion as he spoke in a flat monotone. "I don't know. Does killing myself count as drastic?"

Severus immediately regretted his words, at the sight of Lily's crestfallen face. Why did he have to be so vindictive? Why did he have to continue reinforcing her feelings of guilt, instead of showing grace? But he was far too worked up to control himself. The agitated Slytherin continued speaking with a defensive edge. "Look, I'm not a complete basket case, despite what everyone thinks. I just want some fresh air. I'm not going to do anything crazy."

An awkward silence ensued. Lily's guilt-ridden eyes flitted back and forth between his face and her shoes. She opened and closed her mouth several times, grasping in vain for words to bridge that terrible chasm between the two friends.

Severus extended an irresolute olive branch. "I heard what you said in the Hospital Wing. Do you really think I'm brave?"

Lily blinked back tears. "The crap you put up with on a daily basis… I don't know how you manage. You're the bravest person I know."

"I don't know about that," Severus muttered. "You know, there are times when I wonder… what's the point of this _No Dark Magic_ agreement? Maybe I should use Unforgivable Curses, since everyone thinks I'd do it anyways. Why not do the crimes I've already been convicted of? What have I got to lose?"

"You were tempted to, but you didn't." Lily laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That takes a lot more courage than not being tempted in the first place."

"I guess."

Desperate to divert the conversation to a more pleasant angle, Lily quickly continued, "I got your letter. It was so sweet of you to brew that potion for me, after all that happened." Beneath the guilt and remorse, Lily was overwhelmed by gratitude. "But I understand if you don't love me anymore."

"I do," Severus confessed. His palms were becoming sweaty and his stomach was churning. He wanted so badly to escape this conversation before he could say anything idiotic. "I'll always love you, but right now I'm afraid I don't _like_ you very much. You wouldn't believe me when I told you I didn't do it... but when Potter says it, you believe him? Does my word count for nothing?"

Severus wanted to kick himself. Just as things were starting to improve between him and Lily, he had to wreck it again with that _I love you but I don't like you_ nonsense!

"Lily," Severus ventured again, desperate to mitigate the damage. "You've got to take that Immunity Potion every single day. I can't emphasize that enough. Mulciber's been expelled and is on trial, but there's still the others. They think that you ratted out Mulciber. They might be plotting revenge."

Lily pulled him into a hug. "Sev, you're my best friend. I would do anything to take back those horrible things I did. I panicked and completely lost my mind when I saw Mary like that. I didn't mean it when I said I wished… Well, after I calmed down and thought it over and had a talk with J—er, _some people_ , I realized how unfair I had been to dismiss you like that."

Snape gave an angry little kick at a dandelion in the grass. "Great. Now I'm in Potter's debt again."

* * *

Slughorn's massive chest heaved and beads of sweat saturated his brow, amidst the muggy haze of multicolored vapors that saturated the dungeons. "Take your seats everyone, and take out your potions kits. And don't forget those copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_."

Out the corner of her eye, Lily cast a doleful glance at Severus, who was sitting alone at a distant table. The downcast Slytherin was periodically peeking at her from behind his mop of greasy black hair. Neither spoke a word, although Lily could have sworn that Severus had moved a tentative inch in her direction, before deciding to pull back.

James nudged at Lily. "Aren't you going to sit with him?"

Lily sighed and shook her head. "Maybe not today. I think we both need some time to cool down."

James shrugged. "Well, you're always welcome to sit with me."

Lily hesitated for a moment and stole another glance at Severus, who was bent low over his tattered old textbook. His fingers were clenched so tightly around the edges of the table, both hands were shaking. When James extended his invitation, he flinched noticeably and his shoulders tensed. But Lily would not have much longer to choose her lab partner. When Slughorn returned to the front of the class, she hastily took a seat next to James, Sirius and Remus. Peter Pettigrew was conspicuously absent. The short pudgy boy, to no one's surprise, had failed to achieve the OWL necessary to continue taking Potions.

"Now then," boomed Slughorn. "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest. These are the kinds of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet."

The corpulent Potions Master tapped his wand against a cauldron full of what appeared to be plain water. "Can anyone tell me what this one is? Mr. Snape?" When he saw that Severus was staring at the wall with a miserable pout etched across his features, clearly disengaged from the class, Slughorn turned his attention to Lily's raised hand.

"It's Veritaserum, sir. The most powerful truth potion in the world," the redhead proudly reported.

"Excellent! Take five well-earned points for Gryffindor." James reached across the table to congratulate her.

"Now," Slughorn continued, his massive belly knocking some books and parchment onto the floor as he squeezed between two tables. "How about this one right here?" He pointed to a translucent orange potion. Slughorn gave a jovial chuckle and winked at Snape, who was slouching so low in his chair, his back was nearly parallel to the floor. "You've known all about this potion since your First Year, right Sev? Been brewing it for personal use too, haven't you?"

When Snape continued to pout and stare at the wall, refusing to look him in the eye, Slughorn called on Lily once more.

"Pain Relief Potion, sir. Most commonly used for victims of chronic illnesses, but in recent years, also for people who've suffered injuries that would've otherwise kept them out of athletic events." At these words, James grimaced and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Good girl. Have another five points for Gryffindor."

"And finally," Slughorn swelled pompously for dramatic effect as he gestured at a small black cauldron full of what seemed to be molten gold. "Here we have a curious little potion called Felix Felicis. Desperately tricky to make, disastrous if done wrong. However, if you do brew it correctly, as this one has been—Ms. Evans?"

"One tablespoon, and you will have perfect luck for an entire day," Lily finished, beaming from ear to ear.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Slughorn declared. "Now, I must warn you that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions such as sporting events, examinations, and elections. It is also illegal—and terribly unwise—to use it for romantic overtures ("Dammit!" James whispered furiously, and Sirius snickered). For while infatuation can be created and attraction can be manufactured, love must be freely given."

"Anyways," Slughorn continued. "One bottle of Felix Felicis, enough for twenty-four hours of perfect luck, will be the prize for whoever can brew the best Draught of the Living Dead today. I do not expect a perfect potion, as no student has done it in my forty years at Hogwarts. The person who comes the closest, however, will be our winner. Instructions are on page ten. Ready, set, go!"

A loud, abrasive scraping filled the room as people rose from their chairs to begin fetching the necessary ingredients.

Soon the dungeons were full of bluish steam. As he glanced around the room, Severus could see that he had progressed further than anyone by far. Every now and then, he would take one of his self-created improvisations and shortcuts. Ten minutes into the one-hour duration, he had reached the "smooth, black-currant-colored liquid" described as the ideal halfway point.

As the greasy-haired boy crushed a handful of sopophorous beans with the blunt end of the dagger and let the juices drip into his cauldron, Rosier and Avery joined him at his table.

"I'm not helping you with this one," he informed them promptly.

"Like we give a damn," Avery sneered. "We just want to give you some company."

"If I wanted your company, I'd just stick my head in a toilet." Severus snapped, not taking his eyes off his cauldron. His potion was now a deep purple, which indicated seventy-five percent completion.

Across the dungeon, James whispered to Sirius, "His hair looks like it just came out of a toilet." The two Gryffindors collapsed in a fit of giggles, until James straightened up and apologized profusely under Lily's glare.

Rosier sidled up to Snape. "We couldn't help but notice that you aren't talking to Ms. Mudblood, and Ms. Mudblood isn't talking to you."

"None of your business," Snape growled. He made seven counterclockwise stirs, followed by a clockwise one. The potion instantly became a pale pink.

"So the Half-Butt Prince has been dumped by the Mudblood Princess," Avery chuckled.

"Call her that one more time, and I'll bash your face in!" Severus hissed angrily.

"Ten minutes to go!" Slughorn called. With one final stir, his potion was complete. Severus smiled inwardly. He had done it. He was the first student in forty years to create a perfect Draught of the Living Dead. Immediately he began to raise his hand to call Slughorn forward, but a sardonic voice cut him off.

Rosier rolled his eyes in disgust and incredulity. "Have you no pride? Are you gonna go back groveling at her feet like a stray dog begging for crumbs? Was it worth it, Snivellus? You chose Ms. Mudblood over your _real_ friends and everything you ever stood for. And surprise, surprise. She kicks you to the curb first chance she gets."

"Yeah, _we_ would never wish you dead." Avery's voice was sickeningly dark and sycophantic.

"The Mudblood needs to be taught a lesson," Rosier declared. "She needs to be put in her place. Give Bellatrix five minutes with her, and we'll see what's left of that filthy little piece of cockroach dung."

Severus had heard enough. He seized an empty cauldron and smashed it into Rosier's head with all the adrenaline-fueled indignation he could muster. Rosier fell to the floor, clutching at a walnut-sized lump on his forehead. "Put one finger on Lily, and I'll kill you!"

"A likely story," Avery scoffed. "We'll be spilling your precious Lily's filthy blood all over the floor… like _this_!" He flashed a particularly venomous smile at Snape, before lunging across the table and tipping over his perfect potion.

"Ouch! You son of a bitch!" Severus howled in pain as the boiling liquid fell into his lap, burning holes in his already threadbare robes. "I'll get you back—"

"Time's up!" Slughorn called. As students backed away from their benches, the Potions Master moved slowly from one cauldron to another. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. He gave an approving nod to Sirius and Remus' magenta concoction. He smiled at the pale purple contents of James and Lily's cauldron. Then he moved to Slytherin table. Without even looking into Snape's cauldron, he beamed from ear to ear and prepared to retrieve the vial of Felix Felicix from his pocket. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a win—"

"No we don't, sir!" Avery interjected quickly. "Severus didn't even make the potion."

"Yeah, he was too busy whining and pouting about how bitterly unfair his life has been!" Rosier added. He held up Snape's empty cauldron with delight.

Slughorn's beaming face wilted as he stared disbelievingly into the sleek pewter that lined the cauldron's interior. Disappointment clouded his jolly features. "You disappoint me, Severus. Of all the students that have sat in this room over the years, I thought you'd be the one to finally do it."

Regaining his composure, the obese Potions Master strode back to the Gryffindor Table. "Very well, then. Our winners are Mr. Potter and Ms. Evans. Here you are, then, one bottle of Felix Felicis. Use it wisely—and that means you, Mr. Potter!"

The bell rang and students scrambled to pack up their bags and prepare for their next class. Severus lagged behind, dragging his feet, slowly and despondently tossing things into his empty cauldron. Why did nothing ever go right for him? He cursed his rotten luck a thousand times over.

As Snape grabbed his belongings and began stalking out the dungeon, he nearly walked headlong into someone. "Watch it, dummy!" Instinctively, he leapt back, reached for his wand and prepared to hex the blithering idiot, whoever it was.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Snape's wand flew into the air and clattered to the floor on the opposite side of the dungeon. Disarmed, Severus raised his fists and began swinging blindly and indiscriminately. Until he was grabbed by the upper arms and pinned against the wall. The cold, angular protrusions of stone ground uncomfortably against Snape's shoulder blades.

James Potter stepped back and cleared his throat. "I saw what Avery and Rosier did. You had the potion done perfectly, until they ruined it." He released his grip and shoved a tiny bottle full of sparkling golden liquid into Snape's hand. Severus sagged against the wall, and stared in complete bewilderment at the arrogant Gryffindor he so hated.

James' expression was firm and steadfast. "Take it. You should have won."

 **What does this mean in terms of the relationship between James and Snape? Read on to find out!**


	20. Junior Death Eaters

**Ganymede** **: As always, your insightful feedback is very much appreciated! On the topic of Snape in canon, we might have to agree to disagree on some points. Although I don't doubt that James and Sirius were horrible bullies (but probably not as bad as I wrote them in Chapters 1-6)—I'm sure Snape's poor social skills, lack of hygiene, and of course the sketchy people he was hanging out with, certainly didn't help endear him to Lily. We certainly can't blame James for Snape refusing to wash his hair or put on clean underwear :)** **.**

 **Regardless of what anyone might think about Snape, it really is a testament to the greatness of the character that people are able to have such lively discussions about him! The Internet is raging with Masters-thesis sized essays and opinion pieces about Snape!**

 **Guest:** **Hogwarts teachers are completely oblivious to everything that goes on. People such as the Marauders, the Weasley twins, and Malfoy should totally have been expelled… and Bellatrix probably could've gone to Azkaban by her 3** **rd** **year.**

 *****WARNING: Bellatrix makes an appearance in this chapter. Needless to say, that means there will be quite a bit of violence and cruelty.**

 **Chapter 20:**

Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow and frowned. "Why are you giving me this?" he queried.

"Because you should have won," James responded evenly. "And you would have, if Avery and Rosier hadn't ruined your potion."

Severus raised the dainty little bottle up to eye level, and turned it back and forth suspiciously. His dirty yellow fingernails picked at the ring of wax around the bottle-cap, and found the seal to be surprisingly intact. He scanned meticulously over every inch of the bottle, but found nothing to bolster his suspicions.

"What did you do to it?" He continued to interrogate James.

James suppressed a snarky remark. This was the time for sincerity and goodwill, not to reignite old hostilities. "I didn't do anything to that Felix Felicis. I want you to have it because you were the rightful winner. Is it really that hard to believe that I'm just trying to play fair?"

"Yes it is," Severus snapped. "Since when have you ever played fair?"

"Since now," James answered. "And I'm going to prove it." Before Snape could continue arguing, James uncorked the tiny bottle and allowed a few drops of the luscious golden potion to dribble into his mouth.

 _So Potter is telling the truth,_ Severus mused silently. But the skeptical Slytherin would not concede defeat so easily. He continued to rack his brains, grasping at straws, searching for any pretense… any figment of an excuse that would absolve him from having to thank the boy who had made his life hell for five years. No matter how amiable James was pretending to be right now, there was no way Severus would express gratitude towards him. Not if he could help it.

Snape found his new angle of attack. "Lily put you up to this, didn't she?" he muttered.

"Indirectly," James admitted. "Lily didn't tell me to do this, but lately she _has_ been helping me to see things differently. Maybe there's more to life than playing Quidditch and messing around. Lily made me realize that this is not the time for juvenile pranks or stupid rivalries, because our community is on the brink of war." Indeed, the Wizarding World was teetering precariously on the edge of disaster. Voldemort was gaining power. A full-blown genocide against Muggle-borns, and all who supported them, was imminent. In this political climate, only an oblivious idiot could continue frolicking around without a care in the world.

"Whatever," Snape grumbled. "Save your little speech for someone who cares."

James sighed deeply. This conversation, this tentative attempt at armistice, was not going the way he wanted. He desperately grappled for words to express sincerity without appearing pompous. "Look, Severus, I know you don't like me. But I'm not trying to mess with you. I didn't tamper with that potion. I would never do something like that. Well, unless you count the time Sirius and I put hydrochloric acid in your shampoo bottle. But then again, regular shampoo doesn't seem to work on you, so we figured that something stronger—"

"One more comment about my hair, and I'll hex yours off!" Snape shouted furiously. The nerve of James Potter!

James held up both hands in surrender. Beneath the laughter, there was true contrition. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I really am trying, but you know… old habits die hard. Here, just take the potion and I'll leave."

As James exited the dungeons and left Snape alone, the greasy-haired teen cursed his predicament. How he hated being indebted to James Potter! How infuriating it was that his bulletproof reasons for hating Potter were slowly being chiseled away! Snape's eyes darted back and forth between the tiny bottle of Felix Felicis, and the hem of James' robes as he rounded the corner and vanished from sight. Severus vacillated between stubbornness and concession. Finally, his Slytherin pride triumphed.

"You are up to something, Potter. And believe me, I'm going to find out what!"

* * *

Severus wrapped the cloak tightly around his body as he tiptoed across the marshy grounds and thick undergrowth of the Forbidden Forest. The forest floor was coated with a generous layer of autumn leaves, and the humidity of November had rendered them soggy. The damp foliage proved tremendously helpful in muffling the sound of his footsteps, as Severus desperately wished that his presence would not be discovered.

A group of Slytherin students donning hooded black robes trekked ahead. Severus darted from one tree to another as he trailed them by at least ten meters. Although his housemates were barely discernible through the foggy blackness of the nighttime forest, Severus was grateful that the poor visibility gave him plenty of cover. He had to remain hidden. It was absolutely imperative. Ducking behind the formidable girth of a hundred-foot oak tree, the greasy-haired boy tilted back his head and downed a few drops of Felix Felicis. Instantly, his heart swelled with confidence and invincibility.

"There they are. Over in that clearing." Severus recognized Avery's voice. Taking another quick swig of Felix Felicis and cursing the evil bastard who had dared threaten his precious Lily, he followed the Slytherins into a circular clearing illuminated by an eerie array of candlelight. The fiery pinpricks flickered and danced about, like tiny fairies trapped in the impenetrable blackness. Severus had the ominous impression that he was walking into an extremely dark and demonic gathering. He crouched behind a dense clump of mulberry bushes and watched intently from afar.

Sure enough, the clearing was already populated by a semicircle of hooded figures in black robes. They stood in somber silence, with heads lowered and faces shrouded. The attire and body language gave these individuals an uncanny resemblance to human-sized Dementors.

When everyone had taken their place, Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Ladies and Gentlemen, fellow soldiers for the Dark Lord. We have called this meeting because we are concerned about the state of our Youth Movement. There is reason to believe that there is dissent within our Hogwarts base, and it is in everyone's best interest to weed out those whose loyalties are questionable."

A murmur of noises instantly arose. People exchanged wary glances and heated whispers, as everyone sought to deflect blame and exonerate himself of this very grave accusation.

"Snape has deserted us!" Fellow Slytherin Sixth-year Evan Rosier blurted. "That greasy, slimy, no-good turncoat—"

"Silence, runt! You will speak only when spoken to!" screamed an enraged Bellatrix Lestrange. Malice flashed in her black eyes. Her heavy eye shadow and mascaras accentuated the pure venom in her gaze. With the moonlight casting a shadowy contour over her cheekbones, her countenance was positively satanic.

Bellatrix whipped out her wand at lightning speed and struck Rosier with a quick stinging hex. The entire congregation was stunned into silence. Rosier's face quickly lost its self-righteous sneer, as the terrified Slytherin dropped to his knees in a quivering mess. Severus flinched and quickly swallowed another drop of Felix Felicis.

Bellatrix tucked her wand away with a cold, sneering indifference. Her face was a sociopathic veneer of tranquility, as she reveled in the wondrous power of her anger. "It's a pity Mulciber could not be with us tonight, as he is awaiting trial at the Ministry. What a shame. I've never seen such a magnificently performed Cruciatus Curse." Bellatrix inhaled deeply and a dreamy, romantic look saturated her eyes. "A true work of art… an aesthetic masterpiece of a spell."

Lucius chuckled darkly. "Mulciber would be here if it weren't for that meddling Mudblood. But then again, maybe it's a good thing he's been expelled. Albus Dumbledore is the worst thing to ever happen to Hogwarts. The old fool has turned our school into a breeding ground for all sorts of subhuman filth."

Rosier raised his hand. "Permission to speak."

Bellatrix nodded curtly. "Permission granted."

Rosier gathered his courage, convinced that he had something valuable to share. "Snape has abandoned our cause because he's madly in love with the Mudblood Lily Evans. Avery and I tried to talk sense into him during Potions last week, but the greasy git attacked us."

Avery piped up. "I can confirm. Snape was throwing punches left and right. Heck, he's such a Muggle sympathizer, he even fights like one. We also have evidence that Snape had a part in the Mudblood ratting out Mulciber. Even Slughorn is—"

"WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO INTERRUPT?" An irate Bellatrix fired a hex at Avery, causing his face and hands to erupt in boils. Avery whimpered as he cradled his injured skin. Some of the younger Slytherins were already in tears, and a few particularly sensitive third- and fourth-years were on the verge of wetting their pants. The wrath of Bellatrix Lestrange was a fearsome sight to behold. Severus was almost positive that the woman was not fully human. Within her veins and arteries there flowed no blood—but only a thick, vomitous black sludge that permeated every inch of her putrid body and erupted from her pores in schizophrenically deranged outbursts of violence. Rumors had it that Bellatrix was half-Dementor.

Lucius quickly seized the podium again. "Can we all agree that something needs to be done about Lily Evans?"

 _No!_ Severus screamed wordlessly as he continued to eavesdrop. _If you do anything to Lily, I'll kill you!_

"Hear, hear!" The group of Junior Death Eaters began ranting and raving about Lily, spewing invective against the hated Muggle-born. Everyone was talking over each other, eager to share, and eager to distinguish himself as a worthy contributor of ideas and information. Unfortunately, not a single coherent sentence could be heard amidst the cacophony of baying voices. And this was unacceptable to Bellatrix.

"SILENCE! I WILL HAVE ORDER!" Green sparks exploded out of her wand, restoring silence and tranquility. The congregation became so quiet, the sound of falling leaves and mosquito wings could be heard from remote corners of the Forbidden Forest. Miles away, a wolf emitted a melancholic howl.

Bellatrix was positively spitting venom through clenched teeth. "The next person who speaks out of turn will find himself on the receiving end of a Cruciatus Curse. And believe me, mine will make Mulciber's look like child's play!" From his hiding place, Snape nervously chewed his nails. He was confident that he could duel any one of these bastards with one hand tied behind his back. But if Bellatrix got her wand on him, he wouldn't last a minute.

Barty Crouch Jr. spoke up. "Thank you, Bellatrix. Now, as Lucius was saying, there seems to be a consensus that Lily Evans is bad news. That girl has created dissent within our group. By mere virtue of her existence, she has already cost us two of our brightest young members. One is on his way to Azkaban, and one has become a lovesick idiot who couldn't duel his way out of a paper bag."

 _How dare you?_ _Me, a lovesick idiot?_ Severus was angry enough to charge into the clearing and punch Barty in the face. Fortunately, he wasn't stupid enough.

"Exactly," Lucius declared pompously. "There is nothing in the world more repulsive than a Mudblood with an opinion. Just look at Lily Evans strutting through Hogwarts… demanding respect, arguing about her rights, giving her opinions on wizards' issues... _Hah_! A Mudblood with an opinion is a Mudblood who doesn't know her place. I say we select a team of our most capable Junior Death Eaters, and teach that uppity wench a lesson she'll never forget!"

A diminutive second-year boy with mousy blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes hopped forward eagerly. The child's face was effervescent with hope and excitement at the prospect of being a part of something so important. "Let me at her!" he squeaked. "I'll get that Mudblood with my best Jelly-Legs Jinx!"

Unfortunately, the hapless child realized his mistake too late. He whimpered and tried to shrink back into the shadows, as Bellatrix rounded on him.

"Did I, or did I not make it abundantly clear that I would not tolerate anyone speaking out of turn at this meeting? Especially if aforementioned individual has nothing productive to offer besides a worthless Jelly-Legs Jinx?"

"Yes, ma'am." The second-year's voice barely managed to escape his lips. He was paler than a ghost, and trembling from head to toe.

Bellatrix stepped forward, at least a head taller than her terrified prey. The rest of the congregation ceased to exist. The meeting was completely forgotten. The Forbidden Forest dissolved into an indistinguishable blur of black and green. Every lung had stopped breathing and every eye was transfixed on the naive little fool who had bitten off more than he could chew, and was about to pay the price. "And are you incapable of obeying the simplest instructions?"

The child's lip quivered and the tip of his nose reddened, and a single tear slid down his cheek. "I… didn't… think…"

"You didn't think I really meant what I said?" Bellatrix interrogated. "You think I speak to hear my own voice? You think that I say things I don't mean? Are you calling me a liar? ARE YOU?"

A terrified squeak emerged from beneath the large black hood. "I need to use the restroom."

"Correction: You need to be laid to _rest_." Bellatrix stroked her wand suggestively, a vindictive sneer stretching across her demonic features. She jabbed her wand into the air, pointing just slightly above the boy's head. " _Avada Kedavra_!"

A blinding flash of emerald light exploded from Bellatrix's wand, missing the terrified second-year by less an inch. The little boy fell to his knees and threw up both arms in a pitiful defensive posture. "NO! NO!" he sobbed. The tears that had been lingering in his eyes were now falling freely, as the terrified little face was drenched in slobbering wetness. With his weakness exposed and no reason to continue his pretense of toughness, he made no effort to hold in his piteous pleas for mercy.

But he would receive none.

"Coward!" Bellatrix screamed. Safely hidden behind the dense clump of mulberry bushes twenty meters away, Severus cringed at her voice. The sadistic witch continued her tirade. "I knew you were a chicken from the moment I saw you, and here's the proof! You're a mess! How do you expect to be a soldier for the Dark Lord? _Look, you've even wet your pants_!"

Bellatrix grabbed the little second-year by the collar, and yanked him to his feet. With a vicious jerking motion, she tore the hooded black robe off of his body. "How dare you wear this? How dare you impersonate a true soldier of the Dark Lord? _How dare you defile this consecrated gathering with your filthy cowardice_?"

"I want to go home," the child whined. Tears and mucus continued slithering down both cheeks. The Death Eater robe had been so comically large, he could hardly move without tripping over its hem. Nor could he use his hands, as the extremely baggy sleeves dangled at least eight inches past his fingertips. Free from the constraints of the grotesquely oversized garment, he looked like a normal little boy. Not a brainwashed soul who had strayed onto the wrong path, dived head-first into fraudulent ideas of becoming part of something grand… and was now having his delusions torn to shreds.

Bellatrix crouched down so that her face was level with his. "Do you know what we do to chickens around here? We truss them up and break their wings, so they can't fly anymore."

" _Incarcerous_!" A coil of ropes appeared out of nowhere, binding the child head to toe. With lightning speed and agility, Bellatrix whipped a silver dagger out from her sleeve, and thrust it up to the hilt into his shoulder. The cold, austere metal shredded through every tendon, nerve, and muscle in its path, before striking the collarbone and cleaving it neatly in two. The little second-year screamed and jerked in horrible agony. Blood gushed out in a cataclysmic outpouring, drenching his white shirt in crimson. His green Slytherin tie was now a deep Gryffindor red.

Bellatrix withdrew the dagger and with an acrobatic toss, flipped it into her opposite hand. "I'm not done with you yet, coward! Unlike _some people_ , I don't commit to things I can't finish!" She thrust the dagger into the other shoulder in an identical motion.

With a lazy flick of her wand, the ropes vanished and the little boy collapsed to the ground, screaming and gagging as he rolled back and forth, hugging himself. "Get this filth out of my sight!" Bellatrix screamed. Barty Crouch Jr. stepped forward and yanked the child to his feet. He threw back his head and emitted a bloodcurdling scream that reverberated violently throughout all of England, as his arms were tugged. Barty set the little boy onto his feet, and shoved him in the direction of Hogwarts Castle.

Bellatrix shook the dagger in his face. Droplets of blood flew through the air and spattered onto his face. "Go back, coward. If you ever show your face in our meetings ever again, I'll have your head next."

As the sniveling little second-year fell onto all fours and began to crawl away, Bellatrix tucked the dagger back into her sleeve. There was not a single trace of emotion in her features. Nothing in her countenance remotely suggested that she had just brutally tortured a twelve year-old child.

Bellatrix wiped some bloodstains off of her hands, as if flicking away an irksome mosquito. She turned back to the group of Junior Death Eaters. "Now, I believe we were discussing the matter of Lily Evans?"

 **What are they going to do to Lily? Can Severus save her? How about James? Chapter 21 will be here soon!**


	21. Immunity Potion

**You guys are right! Slughorn is totally oblivious to everything that goes all. As we saw in Half Blood Prince and Chapter 11 of this story, all it takes is a little bit of bribery and kissing up, and he gives in right away.**

 **Dumbledore isn't too great at his job either. Supervision in Hogwarts is terrible, and there should be wards in every corridor. That way, when fights break out, there is no question as to who started the fight, and who was defending himself.**

 **Guest:** **Yeah, maybe I did exaggerate Snape's poor hygiene in Chapter 6. But Snape's greasy hair and crooked teeth were mentioned so frequently in canon, I thought it would be funny to keep it going.**

 **Chapter 21:**

" _Muffliato_." Instantly, an invisible barrier erected itself between Severus Snape and his group of former friends. After confirming that he would not be overheard, Severus crept away through the dark expanses of the Forbidden Forest. Throughout his time at Hogwarts, he had seen plenty violence and dark magic. But he had never seen anyone die—and he had no intentions of making today his first.

" _Lumos_." Severus crouched down and began following the trail of blood that would lead to his destination.

The little second-year had managed to crawl to the edge of the forest, stopping just a stone's throw short of Hagrid's cabin, before finally collapsing from fatigue. There was no color in his face, except for an icy blue tint begotten of hypothermia and hemorrhaging. As the child lay slumped over a fallen log, propped on two elbows, his weight was excruciatingly perched upon severed tendons and splintered bones. Both arms bowed out at such grotesque angles, he resembled a human crab. Liter after liter of blood continued to stream down from the deep punctures inflicted by Bellatrix's silver dagger.

Severus quietly drew his wand. " _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," he mumbled. " _Vulnera Sanentur…_ " He choked back the urge to vomit at the grisly sights and sounds of what he'd just witnessed.

Suddenly, he was overcome with disgust at himself. Performing the countercurse to _Sectumsempra_ made him realize just how dark and twisted he was, to have invented the curse in the first place. Waving his wand and uttering an incantation felt innocuous enough—the violence was indirect and impersonal. It did not require him to forcibly restrain a twisting, struggling body… to feel his victim writhing beneath his grip as he maimed and slashed and disfigured the helpless, vulnerable flesh.

Watching Bellatrix inflict such horrible cruelty with her own two hands was a chilling but intriguing illumination of his own hypocrisy. _Sectumsempra_ would have done no less damage than Bellatrix's dagger. Truly, his creation was no less vile than what that sadistic woman had just done—it simply allowed Severus to maintain the pretense of keeping his hands clean. He lifted his eyes to the moonlit silhouette of Hogwarts Castle, where Lily lay in peaceful slumber, and resolved that he would never use _Sectumsempra_ ever again.

The wounds slowly began to patch up. After ten agonizing minutes, the child stirred and feebly rolled over in attempt to face his rescuer.

"Your welcome," Severus muttered under his breath. He hoisted the diminutive second-year to his feet, and steered him towards Hogwarts Castle. "Go see if Madam Pomfrey can do anything about the scarring. Then beg Dumbledore to transfer you into Hufflepuff. But don't tell anyone that you saw me here."

* * *

"I would like to resign from the Quidditch Team." Snape's gaunt, sallow face was completely devoid of all emotion as he quietly took a seat in front of Slughorn's desk.

"Huh?" The Potions Master mumbled thickly as he swallowed a dozen Pumpkin Pasties in a single bite. It was apparent from his glazed eyes and confused expression that he was only half-listening.

Severus repeated himself with greater resolve and conviction. "After a great deal of soul-searching, I have come to the conclusion that perhaps Quidditch isn't for me." The greasy-haired boy could feel his blood boiling as he recalled all the vicious words that his fellow Slytherins had spoken against Lily. He wanted to tear them apart limb by limb. How dare they threaten his precious Lily! Play Quidditch with those idiots? Eat at the same table? Study together? Over his dead body!

Slughorn's mouth dropped open, causing his enormous double chin to fall past the third button on his shirt. "Severus m'boy, what are you saying?"

The greasy-haired teenager drew a deep breath. "In the past, I thought I had to play Quidditch to prove that I'm not weak. That I won't let anyone scare me away from anything. But I know better now. Just thinking that I need to prove I'm not weak already makes me weak."

"But Severus, you so hard to get on the team! Against all odds, you showed them. Against all odds…" The Slytherin Head of House continued to stare in crestfallen disbelief. He'd always had a soft spot for the boy. Although Severus was tough and scrappy, the Potions Master knew that the scrawny, unkempt, greasy-haired youth was in fact quite vulnerable. The boy had come so far. Severus had overcome his debilitating handicap and complete lack of natural talent, stood his ground in front of an entire crowd of jeering detractors, fought back against one bully after another… only to quietly surrender everything he'd worked to build.

"I really feel this is the right thing to do," Severus responded softly. "At first, it felt great to play Quidditch when everyone thought I couldn't. But I've got to stop pretending to be someone I'm not."

There was no turning back. Although Severus had always had misgivings about the shady activities of his former friends, his desire to be part of something grand would always overcome his common sense. But the truth was clear now. Seeing how these bastards treated people made Severus all the more confident that parting ways was the correct—and only—choice. He could not continue to dabble in cognitive dissonance. It was naïve at best, and idiotic at worst, to think that he could profess to be Lily's friend, while simultaneously hanging out with people who wanted her dead. Playing Quidditch with people who wanted to hurt Lily was unthinkable.

Slughorn made one final entreaty. "Severus, are you sure about this? If you quit the team, people are going to think that you finally let all the snide comments get to you! Do you want to give those Gryffindors another excuse to taunt you? Do you want to open yourself up to that sort of misunderstanding?"

But Severus had made up his mind. This was war. The days of letting bullies get him down were long gone. With his beloved Lily in the crosshairs of Bellatrix Lestrange, he had far more important things to worry about than a few snide comments.

"I thought that playing Quidditch proved that I'm not weak. But in the end, the only thing it proved was that I care about what people think of me."

Quietly and stoically, he laid his resignation slip onto Slughorn's desk, along with a case of butterbeer. "Thank you for the opportunity," he whispered.

* * *

"Have you taken your potion today?" Severus asked Lily for what must have been the millionth time. The two friends were at their usual table in the library, poring over a Transfiguration assignment.

Lily emitted a slightly exasperated sigh. "Yes I have," she recited mechanically. "Two drops every morning, as always."

Severus shifted back and forth uncomfortably, deliberating over whether or not to reveal what he had learned in last week's Forbidden Forest escapade. His practical, utilitarian, self-preservation-above-all Slytherin mentality was screaming for him to tell the truth. But fear kept him silent. What if Lily deemed him guilty by association? What if she was angry that it took him five years to fully renounce the Junior Death Eaters—when he'd known all along what Bellatrix was capable of? What if Lily became convinced that Severus hadn't truly seen the error of his old ways, and decided that his friendship wasn't worth it?

"I think we should increase it to eight drops a day. Just to be safe." Severus unzipped his bag and laid two freshly brewed bottles of Immunity Potion on the table in front of Lily. The canary yellow liquid sparked and fizzed like pineapple soda.

The greasy-haired Slytherin continued to argue fiercely with himself. Lily needed to know the danger she was in. She must be warned. But his tender side—which almost nobody knew that he possessed—disagreed. He didn't want to scare Lily or break her heart. Lily had always believed that as long as she worked hard, mastered her spells, and was a good, kind, sincere friend, nobody would care that she was Muggle-born. The red-haired girl was so full of hope and confidence that after six years at Hogwarts, she had gained full acceptance from her peers. The last thing Severus wanted to do was to shatter that ideal.

Lily gave her friend a half-grimace, half-smile. "Honestly Sev, at the rate you're going, I'm gonna to wind up in St. Mungo's as a drug addict. Didn't you say that two drops would protect me from most hexes?"

"Yes, but two drops won't do anything against Unforgivables! Please Lily, we've seen what Mulciber is capable of!" Severus wanted to tear out his hair in frustration. If Lily knew what he knew… if Lily knew that she was in the crosshairs of Bellatrix Lestrange… she would have accepted every last drop of Immunity Potion without a single question.

Lily chuckled. "But Mulciber isn't here anymore. Thanks to your timely intervention, he is heading to Azkaban, where he belongs."

Severus continued to protest. "But Rosier, Avery…"

Lily was becoming visibly annoyed. "I appreciate your concern, but I think you're being way too paranoid. We can handle Rosier and Avery. It's not like Bellatrix Lestrange is hiding in the Forbidden Forest, waiting to get me."

 _Yes she is! Literally!_ Severus wanted to scream. He was nearly tearing out his hair in frustration. _Just tell her, you coward! Lily isn't naïve… she can handle the truth!_

If he didn't have the nerve to tell it straight, he would have to warn Lily indirectly. "But what if it isn't just Rosier and Avery? What if there are others? Lily, this so-called Junior Death Eaters movement is bigger than you think!"

Lily laughed. "Sev, what do you think is gonna happen? You really think You-Know-Who and all his buddies are gonna break into Hogwarts just to get revenge on me for ratting on Mulciber?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt. If anything happened to you, I would die," Severus confessed. He was close to crying, as frustration continued to explode in his chest in pulsating waves of agony. He hugged Lily and laid his head on her shoulder. His voice became a high-pitched whine, crackling with unshed tears. "Please, _please_ don't take any chances."

* * *

"Aren't you going to take the potion today?" James asked as he met Lily in the Gryffindor Common Room on the way to breakfast.

Lily playfully raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Do my ears deceive me? Are you and Severus actually agreeing on something?"

James stopped himself right as he was about to crack another joke. "Not really. But I think you should trust Snivelly on this one. He sees those bastards every day. He would know exactly what they're capable of."

James tousled his hair, every inch the brash Quidditch star. "Eight drops a day. Is it really that much to ask? Snivelly poured his heart and soul—and maybe even his grease—into those potions, just to keep you safe!"

"I'm sixteen, not six!" Lily was almost shouting. She was getting quite annoyed and indignant at the relentless pestering from both boys. Why did they insist on fussing over her like a baby? Did they think she was nothing but a damsel in distress needing to be saved? "I can take care of myself, thank you very much!"

"Of course you can." James quickly placated the irritated redhead. "You're the brightest witch in our year. But there's a fine line between confidence and foolishness. You really think you can stand against a whole group of pissed-off Slytherins out for revenge?"

Lily's defensive demeanor softened. "I've taken the potion every day for several weeks now," she admitted. "Honestly, it is becoming kind of an annoying routine. Just let me go for one day without it. I'll be fine."

"All right, then," James conceded. "But make sure you take it tomorrow."


	22. Snape's Worst Christmas

**Ganymede:** **Good point. It was kind of unlike Severus to have his nerves fail at such a critical moment.**

 **Guest:** **You guessed it! Lily avoiding the potion was bound to get her in trouble sooner or later!**

 **Chapter 22:**

"James! Will you stop fooling around with that stupid Snitch, and get ready?"

It was the day before Christmas. Lily and her fellow Gryffindor Sixth-year girls had packed their bags and were planning a weekend trip to St. Mungo's to visit Mary MacDonald. According to the Healers, Mary had finally regained her sentience after two months of teetering on the precipice… one heartbeat away from forever losing her soul into a bottomless blackness. The tortured girl was slowly regaining her capacity for thought and speech, and was eating again for the first time in two months. Surely a visit from her friends would be conducive to recovery.

James was hardly paying attention. He let the Snitch run loose for at least ten seconds. Then he ducked, rolled, and dived through an incredibly convoluted obstacle course of armchairs, before performing an acrobatic somersault and leaping high into the air—snagging the runaway Snitch with two fingers. He bowed to a nonexistent audience and blew kisses to an imaginary crowd.

Alice raised her voice. "James, you've got thirty seconds before we leave without you!"

James stuffed the Snitch into his pocket and grabbed his bag. "Okay, I'm coming!" He gave a cheeky grin to the irritated girls. "Geez, calm your butts down!"

As the Gryffindors exited their Common Room and trouped down the mostly empty corridors, Lily suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Wait. There's something I have to take care of first."

James rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation. "That's lovely. You pester me to get ready, and when I'm ready it turns out that you're not." He withdrew the Snitch from his pocket once more.

Lily huffed. "This will only take ten minutes! I need to go give Severus his presents!"

James yawned lazily as he released the Snitch and performed an incredibly nimble behind-the-back catch. "Perfect. Enough time for me to catch a hundred Snitches."

* * *

Lily barged into the Room of Requirement. Over the years, she had learned that this was her Slytherin friend's most frequented location on Christmas Day. Far away from the maddening crowds… away from all the twinkling lights and cheery music that served as a flimsy distraction and a temporary opiate from the very dark reality that was always looming over the horizon. There he brooded in silence and nursed old wounds.

Sure enough, Severus was sitting in a distant corner, hunched over with his wand clutched in a trembling fist. Lily stepped closer and saw that he was engaged in a heartbreaking ritual that she was all too familiar with. The tattered remains of an emerald-green sweater were strewn across his lap. Enormous blotches of stale bacon grease were thoroughly soaked into the frayed fabric. Tears dripped down Snape's hooked nose as he let out a stream of spells mixed with four-letter words.

" _Reparo_! _Scourgify_!" Corresponding streaks of light jetted forth from his wand. But the sweater remained every bit as filthy and dilapidated as it had been on that fateful Christmas Day three years ago.

"No!" Severus sobbed through a thick monologue of profanity. " _Reparo_! _Scourgify_! _Evanesco_!" But it was no use.

"No! There has to be a way!" Severus plunged a hand into his bag and whipped out at least a dozen vials of self-created Healing Potions. With fumbling fingers, he deployed one potion after another. But unfortunately, his valiant efforts proved worthless. Not a single thread was knit back into place, and not a single drop of grease receded.

"Dammit! I'll kill them!" Severus emitted a ghastly shriek of rage and agony as he thrust his wand towards an old bookshelf and blasted it into a million pieces. Plain and simple, his precious gift was ruined beyond repair, and there was nothing he could do about it. "Damn Potter and Black to hell!"

With tears of a broken will shimmering in his eyes, Severus slumped over. What a bloody fool he had been! This was his just punishment, to have been naïve and delusional enough to think that a greasy wretch like Severus Snape deserved to have nice things. He had helped himself to Lily's friendship, drank gratuitously from the fountain of love and kindness she had lavished upon him. But he had drunk unworthily. He was a dirty, rotten, no-good vermin longing to dine at a king's table.

Shame on him for wasting Lily's time and energy! Shame on him for stealing from the wellspring of her heart, when she could've instead been investing in friendships with people worthy of her affection!

Perhaps Potter and Black were right. They didn't truly destroy his gift from Lily. They were only expediting the inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Severus got grease all over the sweater, anyways. Everything that he touched became contaminated. Resigning to his fate, Severus threw his wand onto the floor, then buried his face into the ragged sweater and wept bitterly. _Great,_ he thought miserably. _Now I'm getting even more grease on it._

Lily could not bear to watch her friend suffer for another minute. She sat down next to him and wrapped a comforting arm around his trembling shoulders. "Merry Christmas, Sev." With a tender smile, she laid a neatly wrapped package into his hands.

Severus peeked at her out the corners of his bloodshot, teary eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Lily glanced down at the tattered green sweater that she had knit three years ago. It was the first time in his life Severus had ever gotten anything for Christmas. Tragically, his gift had not lasted an hour after he made the mistake of wearing it into the Great Hall that morning. James and Sirius had promptly made him pay. "You still have this?" she asked gently.

"Of course," Severus mumbled dolefully. "And when I die, I'll be buried with it."

Lily hugged him tightly. "I'm honored."

Then she peeked at her watch. "I must go now. The girls and I are going to visit Mary at St. Mungo's. The Healers say that she's almost ready to come back to school." The redhead smiled broadly at her friend. "You know, Sev, if it weren't for you, she might never be coming back."

Lily almost instantly regretted these words. Mary MacDonald was still a sensitive topic for Severus. The mere mention of her name reopened raw, painful wounds that had only begun to heal.

But if Severus was upset by the reference to Mary MacDonald, he didn't show it. Instead, it was a different aspect of Lily's comment, which had caught his attention.

"You're leaving school grounds?" he asked. Lily nodded. She had not failed to detect the concern in his tone.

"You're leaving school grounds," Severus repeated. "You'll no longer be covered by the protective spells and enchantments around the castle."

Lily knew where this conversation was headed. Although she had no desire to engage in this exasperating discussion, she felt that a degree of tenderness and softness was necessary. Ever since the disastrous events of their third year, Severus' emotional state on Christmas Day was always fragile at best. She did not want to make him any more distressed than he already was.

"Don't you think you're being too cautious?"

"Listen!" Severus insisted. "Those guys are really mad that Mulciber is going to Azkaban. I hear them in the Common Room, calling you all sorts of horrible names. Trust me, Slytherins hold grudges FOREVER!"

"So what?" Lily countered. "Mudblood and damn proud of it. Let them run their mouths. Besides, I won't be traveling alone. There will be at least five of us."

"You're leaving Hogwarts," Severus continued to argue. "Bellatrix could be anywhere! Don't let her catch you unprepared!"

Lily's annoyance was on the brink of overtaking her resolve to speak softly. "Honestly Sev, you must think that Bellatrix is hiding under my bed, waiting to get me."

"I saw her in the Forbidden Forest! Bellatrix was there, and so was Lucius Malfoy!" Severus blurted. There was no turning back now. Lily had to know the danger she was in. Even if it broke her heart to know that in spite of all her indefatigable efforts in becoming the brightest witch in their year… in spite of her impeccable grades and encyclopedic knowledge… in spite of her being the most kind, loyal, and dependable friend anyone could hope for—the tragic reality remained that Lily's blood status still rendered her a target. All the kindness and sincerity in the world could not erase the deeply entrenched bigotry that one-fourth of the Wizarding Community had against her. He could not emphasize enough how important it was that the threat of Bellatrix Lestrange was taken seriously.

"Fine," Lily conceded. "I'll take the potion today—

"—And every day until You-Know-Who is dead and Bellatrix is in Azkaban." Severus finished for her.

"All right, then." Lily was getting visibly irritated. She stole another look back at her watch. "I have to go now. See you in three days!" She gave him a quick hug before clambering out the door.

"Two drops a day at Hogwarts!" Severus called after her retreating figure. "Eight drops when going off school grounds. At the very least. If you want to guarantee that the Unforgivable Curses can't be—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll remember." Lily was barely listening by this point, as she rushed to rejoin her fellow Gryffindors.

* * *

"I guess that wasn't too bad," Lily confessed as the Gryffindors descended the elevator and exited St. Mungo's. "Mary's better along than I thought she'd be."

"Not too bad?" Alice blurted incredulously. "Which ward were you visiting? Were you even paying attention? Mary couldn't even remember our names! One of our best friends, our sister, has no memory of us! We grew up together, slept in the same dorm for five years, shared our very lives with each other! All those precious memories… gone forever."

"Yeah," Patricia added, "Didn't you hear what the Healers said? Mary has lost everything she'd ever learned at Hogwarts! When she comes back, she'll have to start over—taking classes with first-years!"

James spoke with great conviction and optimism. "You couldn't have said it better, Alice. If we really are Mary's friends and family, our way forward is clear. We'll write to her every day. We'll make her a scrapbook of all the good times these past five years. Then once she gets back to Hogwarts, we'll help her in all her classes. And if we can't give Mary her old memories back, then we'll help her make some new memories even better than the ones she lost."

James rumpled his hair and flashed a devilishly handsome smile. "And on the front cover of the scrapbook will be a picture of Mulciber's arse getting ripped to shreds by Venomous Tentacula."

The teens finished descending the white marble staircase and began trekking across the frost-covered front lawn of St. Mungo's. Ice crunched beneath their feet. As Lily glanced over her shoulder at the majestic edifice, shining in all its formidable glory, irony jabbed at her heart. How many hearts had stopped beating, how many tears had been shed, and how many dreams had died inside of that building? How much pain and brokenness was hidden inside that pristine architecture and immaculate landscape? Truly St. Mungo's was a whitewashed tomb. A gold-plated coffin. A graveyard full of ruined lives, wrecked families, and cold, desolate hearts masked beneath that luscious veneer.

Lily gave James' hand a gentle squeeze before continuing to address the girls. "I'm not denying that Mary has been through something terrible. But for someone who was under the Cruciatus Curse for ten minutes, things could've been much worse. If Severus hadn't intervened—"

"Lily, do you even hear what you're saying?" Lauren demanded. "We almost lost one of our best friends, and all you can think about is Snivellus Snape?"

" _Severus_ is one of my best friends, too!" Lily protested. "If it weren't for him, Mary would've been tortured for hours!"

Although their friendship had healed with time, Lily still felt deeply ashamed and guilty about the way she had treated Severus. Truly she had been a terrible friend. How quick she had been to assume the worst about him! How insulting it was that at the first sign of trouble, her kneejerk reaction was to blame him!

Severus had given his word to forsake the Dark Arts. There was an age-old understanding that a man was only as good as his word. Incriminating someone in the absence of evidence was equivalent to calling him a liar, and declaring his character to be rubbish. It was the height of insult and injustice to believe an unfounded accusation. To exact punishment on the mere basis of suspicion. Tragically, Lily was guilty of this.

"I'm not buying it," Alice insisted stubbornly. "Nothing you say will convince me about Severus Snape."

"I don't know," James said to Lily once the other girls were out of earshot. "I'm almost convinced."

* * *

They arrived at the train station a quarter past noon, and it was bustling with activity. Christmas lights twinkled in the distance, and the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of pine needles and freshly fallen snow. The nearby town and marketplace were heavily adorned with Christmas decorations, including ice sculptures and life-sized Nativity scenes. People could be heard whistling yuletide melodies as they went about their business.

Soon the train had arrived with a hiss of steam. Everyone grabbed their bags and prepared to board.

"Go ahead." James vaguely gestured with a nod. "Lily and I are going to hang back for a bit. We'll catch the next train." Lauren, Alice and Patricia beamed excitedly at Lily. Finally it was happening! Their spunky, talented friend was finally opening her heart to the handsome Quidditch star!

Soon the train departed, and only Lily and James were left on the platform. James nudged her gently towards a small shopping plaza near the train station. "Let's go for a walk."

As the duo sauntered past a row of windows decorated with Christmas trinkets, with warm butterbeers clutched in their hands, James glanced over his shoulder. When he confirmed that nobody was listening, he lowered his voice. "Lily, be honest with me. Have you been taking Snivelly's potion these past few days?"

Lily raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Seriously, James? You kept us back just to ask me this?"

"I take that as a no?" When Lily continued avoiding the question, James realized what must have been going on. "Lily!" he scolded gently. "Of all the days to forget!"

The red-haired girl shifted back and forth uneasily, fiddling with her hands. "Well, to be honest, I didn't forget," she confessed. "Truth is, I haven't been taking the potion for a couple weeks now."

"What?" James shrieked. He spat a mouthful of butterbeer down the front of his cloak. "Lily, don't you realize how dangerous that is? We're not on Hogwarts grounds anymore! You're completely exposed; there could be Dark Wizards anywhere!"

Lily had had enough. "Look," she began impatiently. "I know that you and Severus mean well, but what you're doing is victim-blaming. I am not responsible for what someone else does to me. If someone attacks me, they've got a problem, not me. I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I have to take some stupid potion to ensure my own safety, when it's them who needs to change their behavior? If I get attacked because I didn't take the potion, was I somehow _asking for it_?"

The redhead reached into her pocket and tossed an unopened bottle of Immunity Potion into a streetside garbage can. "Don't tell Muggle-borns how to avoid getting attacked. Tell those wannabe Death Eaters not to be attackers."

" _Accio_!" James summoned back the potion bottle, and tried shoving it back into Lily's pocket. "Seriously! How hard is it to take eight measly drops?"

"No!" Lily vigorously tried to push James' hand away. "This is a matter of principle! I am NOT responsible for someone else's bad behavior!"

"Lily, you're not thinking straight!" James grabbed Lily by the wrists as they continued to tussle back and forth. "We're miles away from Hogwarts! For all we know, Voldemort could be in that ice cream parlor right this moment! Let go of this silly little— _OUCH_!"

James fell hard to the ground as something collided with the back of his head, knocking his glasses askew. Out the corner of his eye, he caught a vague glimpse of swishing black cloaks.

" _Petrificus Totalus_!" shrieked a cackling, deranged-sounding female voice. A suppressed squeak and a dull thud indicated that Lily had been struck down. Their assailant emitted another shrill cry of triumph.

"Should've taken Snivelly's potion, little lady," crooned a raspy male voice that sent shivers up James' spine. "Oh dear, what will your poor boyfriend say once I'm finished with you?"

James righted his glasses just in time to glimpse a whirlwind of color, and three or four hooded figures vanishing into thin air… with an unmistakable curtain of red-hair draped over the right arm of the largest Death Eater.

"LILY! NO!"


	23. A Reluctant Partnership

**Welcome back everyone!**

 **I'm so sorry for the long hiatus. Work has been really busy, but here I am!**

 **Recap: Chapter 22 ended with Lily getting kidnapped by Death Eaters after she, out of indignation towards the "victim-blaming" mentality, has been secretly refusing to take Snape's Immunity Potion for several weeks.**

 **Chapter 23:**

James burst into the Gryffindor Common Room like a bolt of lightning. His black hair was drenched in sweat, and clung to his face in sticky tendrils. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem!"

Sirius shot him a snarky grin. "What, did you get dumped?"

"Gone!" James shouted through gasps of air. "Lily is gone!"

Sirius smirked broadly and took a huge mouthful of butterbeer. "You mean she's going out with Snivelly?"

"No!" James was nearly tearing out his hair in frustration. "I mean, _gone_! Taken! Disappeared without a trace! Kidnapped by Death Eaters!"

The entire room fell deathly silent. People exchanged wary but skeptical glances. The past few years at Hogwarts had taught everyone that every word out of James Potter's mouth was to be taken with a grain of salt. The cocky Quidditch star could hardly walk down a single corridor without cracking a joke or pulling a prank on some hapless, unsuspecting Slytherin. But if he was joking right now, this current charade must have been the greatest bit of acting Hogwarts had ever seen.

"Don't just stare at me!" James screamed. "Don't you get it? Lily has been kidnapped by Death Eaters! Bellatrix Lestrange could be torturing her this very minute!"

One very brave but foolish fourth-year boy tentatively spoke up. "This isn't an early April Fool's prank?"

James let out a roar of frustration and seized an empty bottle of butterbeer, chucking it as hard as he could at the snarky skeptic. "I swear on Merlin's name, the next person to accuse me of making this up is getting their face hexed off!"

Then his anger gave way to genuine grief. James swore under his breath and brushed away an angry tear. "What is wrong with everyone? Don't you care about Lily? Do you fancy finding her body lying in a ditch in the Forbidden Forest? _Do you want her to end up like Mary MacDonald?_ "

The tears flowed freely now, but he made no attempt to conceal them. Pompous, swaggering, arrogant James Potter was sobbing like an infant. But there was no shame in laying down his pride and baring his vulnerability. All for the beautiful, kind, brilliant girl he so loved. What wouldn't he give to have Lily back by his side? How he wished he'd cleaned up his act before it was too late! James had wasted many precious years, and today there may very well be no more opportunities to redeem himself. The last impression Lily ever had of him was an attention-seeking, bullying prat.

Even the most blasphemous and irreverent jokester knew that Mary MacDonald was off limits. When the shock of James Potter being sincere finally died down, the Gryffindors exploded in an uproar.

"I knew it!" Alice Cadwallader screamed. "I knew Snivellus was leading her into a trap!"

"No!" James protested. "Sniv— _Severus_ tried to protect Lily! He brewed a bottle of Immunity Potion to protect her from attacks. But Lily hated being treated like a baby, so she refused to take it!"

Lauren Brown let out a high-pitched snort of condescension. "Really? And how would Snivellus know Lily was in danger, if he wasn't the one who sent those Death Eaters after her?"

"Use your common sense!" Sirius snapped impatiently. "How do you think those Death Eaters feel about a Muggle-born beating their precious Slytherins on every test? About a Muggle-born ratting out Mulciber for attacking another Muggle-born? Of course Lily's a target! It has nothing to do with the greasy slimeball!"

With head facing forward and eyes fixated on the ground, James made a beeline for the Portrait Hole. Every precious minute spent arguing was time wasted, in which Lily could be slipping further and further out of his reach. She could be under the Cruciatus Curse this very moment. She could be getting ripped to pieces by Fenrir Greyback. She could be writhing under one of the many macabre creations straight from the deranged imagination of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Come on, Padfoot. I'm done trying to convince these idiots."

Sirius raced to catch up. "Where are we going, Prongs?"

"To find Snape," James answered tersely. "He knows how Death Eaters think. He's bound to have some idea where they took her."

"Wait a minute," Sirius protested as the two friends clambered through the Portrait Hole and began descending the spiral staircase. Their footsteps echoed in perfect synchronization. "I'm not working with Snivelly."

"Please," James implored in a voice that was so unlike his usual drawl. "Do it for Lily."

His tone struck a chord in Sirius' heart. "All right, then," Sirius relented. "We'll do it for Lily."

* * *

James and Sirius burst into the Great Hall, where Severus was sitting alone at the Slytherin table, quietly reading a Potions book. "Hey Snivelly!" Sirius yelled.

The Gryffindors ducked as Severus viciously hurled an ink bottle at their heads. "I thought I told you not to call me that!" the irritated Slytherin growled.

"We're sorry, _Severus_ ," Sirius corrected himself. "We need your help."

"And why should I do that?" Snape scoffed, not taking his eyes off of the book as he delved into a dark but intriguing chapter about the many uses of Basilisk venom.

"Actually, it's Lily who needs your help," James got straight to the point. "She's in trouble."

Severus dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "If Lily needed anything, she would tell me herself. Now beat it."

Sirius lunged across the table and vigorously tore the book out of Snape's hands, tossing it into the fireplace. He seized two fistfuls of oily black hair and jerked Snape's neck around. The two were inches apart, glaring at each other with pure venom. "Listen, you greasy git!" Sirius roared. "Lily is in trouble, and if you keep sitting here and wasting time, we'll make you wish you'd succeeded at killing yourself!"

"That book cost me twelve Galleons, you son of a bitch!" Severus wrenched free from Sirius' grip and landed a solid punch on his nose. As Sirius recoiled in pain, grabbing wildly for a handkerchief to stem the flow of blood, Severus launched himself forward and sank another punch into the offending Gryffindor's stomach. Although Sirius was considerably taller and stronger, Severus more than compensated for his lack of size with an indomitable will.

"Padfoot, stop!" James whipped out his wand and cast a Shield Charm between the two combatants. From opposite sides of the veil, Sirius and Snape continued to glower at each other. "Lily was kidnapped by Death Eaters earlier today," James quickly explained before the situation could get further out of hand. "It happened when we were visiting Mary at St. Mungo's."

"Liar," Severus accused. "Nobody can touch her as long as she's taking the potion I gave her."

"But that's the problem!" James said urgently. "Lily hasn't been taking it for weeks! She felt insulted by the insinuation that she couldn't take care of herself." As evidence, James pulled an untouched bottle of Immunity Potion out of his pocket.

Snape's obsidian eyes clouded over with a strange amalgamation of concern and skepticism, as his two strongest personal convictions waged war against each other. On one hand, he refused to believe a single word out of James Potter's mouth. Just seeing the snide, arrogant Quidditch star so flustered brought him a savage sense of triumph. But on the other hand, he _had_ been confronted with substantial evidence that Lily had drawn the ire of many Death Eaters due to her blood status and her actions over the past few months. If Lily really were in trouble and he failed to intervene, Severus would never forgive himself.

"Fine," Severus conceded. "But he's going, then I'm not." He gestured in Sirius' direction with a terse nod.

"Severus, be reasonable," James protested. "This is Lily we're talking about."

The greasy-haired Slytherin stood his ground. "I'll rescue Lily by myself if I have to. But I'm not collaborating with him. Take it or leave it."

James and Sirius exchanged contrite glances. "It's okay, Prongs." Sirius gave his friend a comforting pat on the back. "Snivelly will be much more useful against Death Eaters than I'd ever be, seeing that he's practically one of them."

"All right then," James conceded. He turned to Snape. "Come on, we need to get going."

Severus gave Sirius one final murderous glare and spat in his face, before whipping around and dashing out of the Great Hall. "I think I know where they took her."

 **James and Snape are going on an adventure together. How is that going to work out?**


	24. Death Eater Party

**Chapter 24:**

James rushed to catch up with Snape. "Where'd you reckon they took her?"

"Little Hangleton graveyard," Severus responded curtly without turning around.

"Little— _what_?"

"Little Hangleton graveyard," Severus repeated. "It's where the Dark Lord was rumored to have murdered his first Muggle. The place holds a special significance in his heart. This is where he made his first declaration of war against Muggles and all those he felt unworthy to be members of wizarding society, and so this is where he will bring to fruition the work he began."

James let out an amused chuckle. "You really know how to think like a Death Eater. It's no wonder they wanted you."

Snape raised a middle finger. "Shut it, Potter."

James quickly retracted his snarky attitude. _Lily,_ he reminded himself. _For Lily's sake, you must make an effort to get along with Snivelly._

Snape pulled a Muggle map out of his cloak, and pointed to a remote village labeled _Little Hangleton_ in an untidy scrawl. "The question is, how are we going to get there?"

"Flying," James retorted promptly.

"Are you dense?" Severus snapped. "We are NOT flying three hundred miles across the country in the middle of winter!"

James smirked from ear to ear. "Are you chicken?"

"No!" Snape's livid face was growing paler by the minute. "I am not afraid of anything! I'm simply turning down a horrible idea that came out of that pile of dragon dung you call a brain."

James bristled at these words. How dare Snivelly be so arrogant and presumptuous to shoot down his suggestion, without even bothering to offer a better one?

"Why am I not surprised?" James taunted back. "You could hardly stay on your broom for ten seconds during that Quidditch match." The swaggering Gryffindor had resolved that until Lily was rescued, he would make every effort to get along with his Slytherin nemesis. But he could not resist. It was so painfully obvious that Snape was terrified of flying. Besides, Snivelly had insulted him first, so he was hardly unjustified in firing back.

"Shut your filthy mouth," Snape snarled, clenching a fist under his robe.

"I was watching you, you were dripping grease all over the pitch! Or maybe it was you pissing your pants every time a Bludger came your way."

"F—k you!" Snape hurled a punch at James' mouth.

James dodged aside with ease as Severus lost his balance, and to avoid hyperextending his arm, was forced to fall flat on his face. His comments about Snape's pitiful lack of athleticism and coordination were now fully vindicated. James began singing a merry tune.

" _Snivelly's uglier than sin, he always lets the Quaffle in! Snivelly will make sure we win, Snivelly is our—_ "

"That does it!" Snape screamed, practically spitting with rage. He snatched the map from James and stuffed it violently into his own pocket. "You are not coming with me. I'm going to rescue Lily by myself!"

"No, wait!" James hastily reached out to grab Snape by the arm. "Severus, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Get your hands off of me!" Severus vigorously thrashed about, trying to free himself from James' grip.

"Severus, listen." James prattled. "I care about Lily every bit as much as you do. I'm touched beyond words at the way you brewed that potion for her safety, and I blame myself for not making sure she took it before leaving school grounds. I'm… I'm just really stressed out about everything, and I'm trying to lighten things up. It's nothing personal. This is simply how I cope with difficult situations."

Severus hesitated. On one hand, he really wanted to leave Potter in the dust, despairing and agonizing in uncertainty, and drowning in frustration over his uselessness in rescuing Lily. But practicality must trump pride. Confronting a group of Death Eaters alone was idiotic at best.

"Fine," Snape snapped back. "But you owe me a new Potions book."

James hastily reached into his robes and shoved two fistfuls of Galleons into Snape's hands. "Done. Now let's put all this stupid bickering behind us, and go save Lily."

* * *

 _Meanwhile…_

Moonlight bathed the town of Little Hangleton in a silvery glow. All was silent as villagers slumbered after a long day of shoveling snow, taking down freshly-obsolete Christmas decorations, and easing their minds and bodies back to the grind of daily life. But the apparent tranquility was a facade at best. Hidden beneath the darkness, beneath many layers of Muggle-repelling Secrecy Charms, a sinister plot was unfolding.

In the light of the moon, four figures in hooded black robes stood silently in Little Hangleton graveyard. The tallest and most massive of the hooded figures thrust his arms forward, and dumped a hogtied Lily Evans onto the cold, damp grass.

"What a delicious looking little Mudblood," crooned Fenrir Greyback. There was undisguised greed in his bloodshot eyes. Slimy rivulets of saliva dripped from his yellow, two-inch-long canines, and landed into his unkempt beard. Although the werewolf stood eight feet tall and had shoulders as broad as a troll's, he looked pitifully childish as he pleaded with the witch standing to his left. "Oh please Ma'am, won't you let me have a little fun with the girl?"

"Silence, half-breed," Bellatrix snarled back. "Nobody lays a finger or a tooth on Little Miss Mudblood until Snape arrives. He is the one who needs to witness this."

Fenrir Greyback pouted in a manner comically unbecoming of a creature of such massive stature and menacing countenance. "You promised!" he hissed mutinously. "You promised I could have a special snack tonight!"

"The only snack you're going to get is a stinging hex down the throat, if you don't shut your useless mouth right now," Bellatrix retorted. Without another word of protest, Greyback slinked into the shadows of a particularly large tombstone. Defeat and resignation were plastered all over his face, as the wolf was forced to yield to his pack leader.

Bellatrix flicked her wand and untied the gag from Lily's mouth. The redhead was trembling from head to foot, and appeared to be on the verge of tears.

"Hello, sweetie," Bellatrix crooned. "We're so happy you could join us for our little party tonight, and I know you're equally thrilled to be here. Why else would you refuse Snivelly's potion?" A terrified whimper escaped Lily's throat.

"And speaking of Snivelly," Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, removing his hood. "Since you two are our guests of honor on this wonderful evening, the party cannot start without him."

"But that doesn't mean we can't give you a preview of what is to come," Bellatrix gave a sadistic chuckle. Lily closed her eyes and desperately tried to disappear. Just the sight of the woman's face made her want to vomit. Her soul was as putrid as a Dementor's, her heart as black as the deepest caverns of the Forbidden Forest, and her words as caustic as Basilisk venom. Why, _why_ hadn't she listened to Severus?

Bellatrix raised her wand. " _Accio_!"

There was a faint rustling of leaves in the distance, and a rabbit hurtled out from cluster of bushes and into Bellatrix's outstretched hands.

The sadistic witch leered at the terrified teen. "Anyways, as Lucius was saying, allow me to demonstrate what you can expect from tonight's festivities."

Bellatrix lifted the rabbit into the air by its ears. " _Crucio_!"

The air was filled with earsplitting shrieks, as the hapless rabbit twitched and convulsed wildly in Bellatrix's grip. Memories of Mary MacDonald on that fateful day, which Lily had tried so hard to suppress, came crashing into the forefront of her mind in a veritable ocean of terror. Poor, sweet, innocent Mary caught in the crossfires of a war she knew nothing of. Poor, sweet, innocent Mary tearing herself apart limb by limb as she writhed under unspeakable agony, until she had been tortured to the point of permanent insanity.

"No! No! Please, stop!" Lily sobbed hysterically. Tears streamed down the redhead's blotchy cheeks as she tried to cover her ears. But Lucius quickly leaned down and pulled her hands away.

"Yes!" Bellatrix screamed with delight. " _Crucio_!" The rabbit's squeals became louder than ever. Lily's throat soon grew raw from screaming, begging for the nightmare to end, desperately trying to drown out what she was being forced to hear.

Bellatrix withdrew her wand and the curse was lifted. She paused for a few minutes, waiting for Lily to regain her senses. When the young Gryffindor had calmed down enough to take another tentative glance at her captor, Bellatrix slashed her wand through the air. " _Sectumsempra_!"

The rabbit was decapitated in a shower of blood. Calmly, Bellatrix tossed the tiny corpse at a salivating Fenrir Greyback.

"Here's your appetizer."

"Thank you Ma'am!" Greyback babbled as he took a great big slobbering bite. Loud, squishy sounds reverberated through the graveyard as he chewed on the rabbit's entrails.

Bellatrix caught the werewolf's eye, and nodded vaguely in Lily's direction. She gave a sickening smile.

"And there's your main course."

 **Will James and Snape get to Lily in time? Or will all their bickering doom the rescue mission?**


End file.
